My childhood memories of the rainy months in India…
The fields would sway to the wind
the children in trains waving back.
The tides would get back their surf
the farmers too engrossed in work.
When the rains hit us days on
it made pools of watery slush.
The mud would entrance the kids
who would make pots with the clay.
The sun would peep in on the dew
so that the grass could retain the shine.
The grasshoppers would jump in joy
crickets playing the game of life.
The butterflies were very choosy
as to which flower they would sit.
This made it difficult for us to catch
by reading their minds in tiny heads.