A few kilometres off,
Serene and calm, rarely loud
except in rain
I hear the rustle and gurgle in my thoughts
I sometimes wonder if things have changed somehow
It's almost May
Thane does what it does best
belts my bare skin with its summer
it hides the stream too, within a man-made forest
been there twice, under the evergreen trees
June arrives, the first week bringing rain
only for Thane to turn again
by the third week, runners underground defy
paint everything green, bring a gentleness to all
the balcony becomes my frequent haunt then
Mom visits and leaves
I sit, sipping my ginger tea
July and August will be loud
they bring those dark, thunderous clouds
I watch the hill and breeze hold what is missing
the oregano coffee forgotten, unmade
I sit there
at the balcony
week on week
Frost, Blok
undecided
read, or write my own
you would appear in the rain, in its mist
linger
We could dig a few holes
in the protected forest
plant some coconut saplings
September and October will be loud
festivities, crackers, things I avoid
I'll deliver perad before a certain someone shouts
these promises to deliver
keep me tangled through it all
Come November I'll rest
buried in beautiful leaves
unclaimed
untethered
away from sight
somewhere deep
in the forest's boughs
be one with the ground
December then
The year will end
I'll have faded
for a month now
deleted from thoughts
At rest
the coconut palms may fruit
or the tree may die
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