I catch the drift of the afternoon hum:
of kids playing on the streets,
a mother setting dried leaves on fire
to ward off the little vampires (the mosquitoes),
the occasional motorbikes passing…
I listened closer as far as my eyes can observe;
trees are slowly silhouetted against pale gray sky
Somewhere, cicadas sing their prelude to the night
and house lights one by one illuminate the town.
Embracing the afternoon fading into night,
I wonder if this is how seeds feel underground
(vulnerable and detached from the sun’s light)
the thought is suffocating, so are growth pains.
The kids’ laughter, the fire burning on, and bikes
awaken me to the here, the now, outside…
* * *