Yesterday's field
is now a lake
teeming with baby frogs
Each dimpling
the perfect reflection of the sky
leaving in its tiny wake
a fatal arrow
for those that watch and prey
while roadside froglets
gangling with the grace of youth
pause
intense in focus
limbs slender, tense
ready
to spring and vanish

It was this morning . . .
the air changed
glowed soft and pink
a strong wind blew
and the rains fell
sudden, sustained
finding everywhere
flowing over us
finding us naked
beneath our clothes
shiny faced and laughing
the veil of cloud and rain
transforming every colour
the brightest sari
the gaudiest flower
the foliage of mango
glossy, dense and dark
cascading rain
The smell of vegetation
damp and warm
and we
ankle deep in the torrent
in the street

our senses
light and full

