There is a corner of my memories
that softens my heart every time I think of it —
the place beneath the almond tree
behind our schoolyard.
Its leaves changed color with each season,
just like the emotions of our youth:
lush green for innocent days,
gold for moments of farewell,
and fiery red for the very first flutter of love.
We used to sit there side by side,
sharing snacks,
talking about big dreams,
believing that friendship would someday
blossom into love.
You would always pick the prettiest leaf,
place it on my palm, and say:
“If it doesn’t fall
even when the wind blows hard,
then we’ll be together forever.”
I held that leaf so tightly
as if I could hold the whole sky
in my small hands.
But one day,
the wind was strong enough
to take away every promise of our youth.
We went our separate ways,
like two leaves drifting
to opposite sides of autumn.
Sometimes, I go back to that old tree,
look up at the leaves dancing in the wind,
and smile
because we once had something so beautiful.
Youth eventually passes,
but the stories kept by that almond tree
remain evergreen in my heart —
never falling.
