dawn at Shiroda

the sun knocks
softly
filtering through the trees
a few birds
start a song
like jazz musicians
warming up a groove
a leaf breaks free
floating dreamily
onto the ground
others join in
like friends taking
an impromptu trip

in my yard
many flowers
in
many sizes
colours and smells
some still holding fast
hoping that my aunt reaches them
to grace her lord’s feet
or adorn her hair
both just for a day
until they meet
others who have already given up
strewn on the ground

a flower
appears to be floating
static
in thin air
looking closer I see
it’s stuck in a
spider’s web
like an unfinished poem
or is it just
another dangling conversation

it’s so quiet
i can hear myself think
my aunt enters
the yard
the flowers start smiling
and then the
“Poder” heralds his arrival
my aunt hands over money
like she always has
i scurry to pick up pois
and
hope to score
some kakanas
like i always have

Poder — Baker
Poi — a goan bread
kakana — a goan bread shaped like a bangle