dung-splattered street
an ektara tunes
the godhuli
still winter rain
the rhythmic sound of knuckles
autumn clothesline
the same old innerwear
taking turns
gunshot pigeons burst open the muezzin’s call
Remembrance Day . . .
a prayer rolls
into a gossip
Chitra Pournami
the roadside kiosks flooded
with orange coconuts
mountain temple
the monkey shadows
in me
morning glories
why not be
optimistic
in my death poem some happy little trees
snowstorm
my garden Buddha
becomes Santa