1 minute reading time (90 words)

Lawrence Gardens, Lahore *

After the rain everything seems different.
The road under the jacarandas has
A new border of purple
Pale halos of light 
Encircle the air
Clouds of leaves drop down
From old, gaunt trees, and
Ferns reach out like exiles
To the spectral columns
Of the library;

Surrounded in wisps of smoke
An unseen bird sings its synopsis of sorrows
The earth itself exudes 
A full-bodied aroma
As awkwardly sentimental
As that first, indiscreet kiss.
The evening stares at me
In sultry accusation.

 


* pub in 'Bitter Oleander' journal, USA, 2012

 

Kingfisher (The Mahals, Wah village, 1990)
Mother

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