South Africa haunts my dreams.
Cape Town calls to me softly in the night.
I see my neighborhood vividly, afraid to lose the precious memories of spring there.
The train station near my house, the bricks that made up the small waiting house, the steps, the shop, Military Rd.
The "Free Palestine" mirror coverings on the Toyota parked at that house that always seemed to be in the process of being renovated.
The sounds, the smells, the memories live somewhere in my mind and as though they've died, I'm afraid to lose them.
Table Mountain, the view from the end of 24 Powell Road.
I don't want to let them slip away.
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