The ber has
lost its lustiness
yielded
to taut, tart
to taut, tart
aubergine jamun
plum
****
The fruity aroma of cashew
smothers
woody scent of saptaparni
a heady cocktail
****
The bare bombax
sheds
blood red blooms and rosy starlings
silk cotton erupts
****
the cashew apple
steals
the roseate glow
of homebound sun
****
copperpod corsage
captures
sunbeams and sunbirds
showers molten gold
****
in the still afternoon air
nothing moves
the dry, fallen leaves rustle
to wind of cobra
****
the koel insists on cooing
wooing
till my heart melts
in the heat of Indian summer
