Six papaya seeds I grew. Then five of them died. My last on the biggest one- At last it died as well, When bugs hacked it down To every cell. Now I dream of planting a sturdy big mango tree, Sitting under it like a bear, Under the refreshing shade of the tree Which I have yet to grow.
Month: September 2021
Sea Sounds
What are those sea-sounds? Not the wailing of the sea. Not little Meera, begging for ice-cream. Not the wind flapping the trees. Not the growl of tribal hounds. Not the finger-snap of an ingenious pianist. Something, something more rhythmic and quick, under the slices of mud and silt, Under the violet of the sea. As the sun peeks at the…