Friday, July 6, 2012


this morning like any other
boxful of books, unopened mails
a kite flashing golden wings circles
deceptive clouds float on an unimpressed sky

last year was different
we lived on a bustling street
with a multiplex at the corner
we could drown our worries
over popcorn and cola
trying not to stare at young lovers
getting cosy in corner seats

a large tree came forward
to hug the balcony, and when
they chopped it, we shed tears
how could they do this, how
could they take away a sanctuary
with an axe but in the new home
the wind does it just as expertly

uproots the tree, shrieks in the
night, litters the ground with
drunk uncertain leaves, we don’t
entertain as often and complain to
friends about distances and day
long outings do nothing to quell
the anxiety about how it might not
rain at all this year and the forecasts
are lies cops spout over a botched up case

this morning like any other
although so much has changed.

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful view of change
    that is so much, yet so gentle
    like a shy drop of water
    from yesterday's shower.
    And so gentle, yet so much,
    like a smile with closed eyes
    floating on the breeze...