An Indian Summer of My Childhood
The sun would volley
Live coals on bodies
In threadbare clothes
The sun would blink
Through the meager waters
That’s left of a river
Sand dunes with scanty vegetation
Scattered all over
The small raft wouldn’t move
On thin layer of water
Where did the fish disappear?
Bedrooms shifted to isolated
Shades under trees
Leaves perspiring and choking
Under the smarting sun
The fires set ablaze to settle scores
Around the town increased
The mercury in the thermometer
Where’s water to put off the fires
On all the four sides of the town
With three intersecting canals
And the mighty Krishna
Coming to a halt?
We longingly would look
Towards the west
For the sun to set
When did the sun really ‘set? ’
The sun would always be
In the middles of the sky
Day in and day out
In the nights he would be
Substituted by hot gales
Which mom would counter
By placing raw onions on
Our skimpy beds and replenishing
Our thin tongues with water
Waking us up from the sun-laden sleep
Afternoons were time for fighting out
The live-coal sun with games under the
Scattered shades emitting the rawness of
Flower-laden mango trees
And biting into tender mangoes
For a moment the sun would take a retreat
Looking at the faces reflecting the sourness
Somehow the birds never really left
[...] Read more
poem by Indira Babbellapati
Added by Poetry Lover
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