
Calcutta monsoons
are unkind to memorials
of past masters

Calcutta monsoons
are unkind to memorials
of past masters

jungle engulfs,
swallows, and digests
once proud buildings

a tree burst through
the old building’s brick wall,
and sent roots searching

Calcutta’s December:
Christmas trees stand beside
palm trees

i walk a calm street,
but find myself facing
a rabid Tengu

born in struggle;
the chick pops from its shell
and must fight to its feet

passing hazy hills,
i sway with the train,
mulling reality

fields of ripe rice
as far as the eye can see -
sickle harvested

momma langur
looks like she’s saying,
“lean into your hammy!”

hollowed out boulder:
home to a meditating monk;
keeps rain out… most days