The last time I was here

the eucalyptus trees didn’t stop the light that streamed down
the pigeons had nests built on the window ledge

door to the garden was kept open for sparrows to walk in
the stone picked from rice felt grainy on my feet

you were not so pale, breathed less through your mouth
the turmeric shone gold on the down of your neck

a stranger groped me in the dark corridor of the temple
cold water from the well sliced my skin harder than his touch

clambering the gooseberry tree made me forget the visit to temple
papaya you sliced tasted like the mango from your garden.

Poem A Day: Write a ‘the last time I was here’ poem


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