POEM: The Well

deep down in a step well

where drab green water stands in dry season

where the light is dim and diffuse

except a solitary shaft that dances against stone and murky water

but only when the sun is high

then dust motes swirl in said light

kicked up by nocturnal creatures satisfied by the darkness

because the shadows shun all that isn’t black

I hear the snap of a bat’s wing

but never see the bat that snapped it

nor who made a squeak to go with the snap


it seems like it should feel creepy

to be in a world where bright light fires only a little oval

while all the rest stays sunk in darkness

but how is my terranean world any different?

POEM: Bats Over Bangalore

dusk descends


bats wing away

abandoning bamboo stanchions

that flex, creak, and groan

during their daily hang

flying like waves of B-52’s

on a doomsday run–

 buggy Armageddon

but bugs are too numerous



to be decimated

it takes giant ganglia

to produce a proper doomsday

HAIKU: Notes From an Evening Walk

Bat black skies above
Jinking, rolling, and dipping
Dog-fighting for food


The Morning Glory
After dark is monotone
But remains shapely


A pack of street dogs
Bursts into barking, relief
Their mark? Lunchbox man,


Shadow silliness
Man flails his arms overhead
Walking behind me