In Mother’s garden

In Mother’s garden, I say “Hi.”
The koel scoffs a single “Coo.”
Together, we make poetry.

In Mother’s garden, triumphs sigh
Through open mouths of preying frogs
Attacking all the incense sticks.

In Mother’s garden, failures dry
With salted halves of mangoes spread
To, one day, be a tasteful sour.

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