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A collaboration over too much coffee.
coffee and pen

23 June, 2005


The clouds here aren't lonely.
They caress hillsides, embrace trees, play with leaves.
They lounge on the roads, rising lazily to let a car pass
Settling down again even before the tyres go around the corner
They talk to the flowers, and play with the dogs
       And, I hear, in partnership with campfires,
       Disorient the birds in nearby Jatinga,
       So that tribesmen can club them out of the air

They laze, cradled like pet cats,
In the laps of high valleys.
Damp with promise, they leave traces of their passage
In the grass, and in the smell of the carpets.
The clouds wander here,
But it's only me that's lonely.



Blogger sunilrnair said...

Full of flavour.

Yes, rains do all that. and yes I am lonely.

Despite sitting with people I share my life with and watching them pour. Over cups of chai.

Yes do make us lonely.

24 June, 2005 10:16  
Blogger Max Babi said...

Hi Peter, sorry to be butting in but most readers will not know that once a year on a particular day, these myriad birds go crazy at Jatinga, and dive headlong into the campfire, like moths into a candle flame. Tribals catch them, stuff them in bags and carry them away to make bird-chow. What turns them suicidal on one night, is something that has bothered me for years. Any comments?

26 June, 2005 10:09  

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