One Battle after Another
Josie with her litter
Maya
Josie is impatient
her litter of four
squeals, like stars
in collision with
the first filaments
of morning light.
Maya drops by, indifference
in gait but it's in the eyes
that curiosity lounges
impenetrable her gaze
inscrutable her intentions
little Josie ferocious
in her demeanor
assailed by throbbing
pangs of motherhood
roars like a tigress;
the cashew tree trembles
Maya jostles past
cool and contained: she is
an old-timer having seen
the wall she used to sun on
crumble reduced to rubble;
she has swung on the
pendulum of timelessness
and seen many a Josie
come
and
go:
but our Josie is different.
She roars like a tigress;
and plop, plop, plop,
drop the cashew fruits


Comments
Cashew fruits will continue to fall.
Maya is eternal.