MONSOON

There is a slight wind,
Sussurating through the curtains.
The sky is the color of stone.
In moments the scent of petrichor,
Green and earthy, rises into the
Warm, wet air. Soon apparent is
The scent of the river.

I am on my third folding umbrella,
Having lost the first two.
The rain and sweat have mingled
On my back. It will be this way
For almost half the year,
A time of consecutive typhoons.

Time to enjoy the last of the
Summer fruits. They add their
Perfume to the smells of the
Monsoon.

06 June 2018

Copyright 2018 Mona Caccam

Advertisements

ASKING FOR DIRECTIONS

As seconds tick by, our paths are
Split, into those that
Require thought and courage,
And those that warrant
Heedlessness. There will be
Consequences.

So we sometimes stray
After spending time as sheep.
Life is not always so
Orderly; getting answers to
Questions can be like pulling
Teeth. Eventually we find
Our way.

Apres-moi, le deluge:
A cascade of memories shaping
The day.

04 June 2018

Copyright 2018 Mona Caccam

STAREDOWN

The sun’s yolk blooms above
Your eye, coaxing mirages from the
Middle distance.

The long stare brings no relief.
Neither of you are ready
To lower his gaze first.
All around, images are sharp in
The heat

But doubt can cast shadows. Leaning
Under its eaves cools any ardor,
Saving words for other times
Of challenge.

01 June 2018

Copyright 2018 Mona Caccam

DO IT ON THE GRASS

It is only in the soulless cities
Where the roads are an even grid. Where
The houses look the same, where it is easy
To get lost.

If you must run after the sunshine
Do it on the grass. The warm yellowness
Brings the thaw, cuts your sleep and
Coaxes growth.

The dust-devils go round like dervishes,
Scattering color as you blink your eyes.
Following the water brings you to yourself,
Throat dry after play, after wandering.

22 May 2018

Copyright 2018 Mona Caccam