Waterforest

I saw my wife today
Leaning against her hoe
Looking earnestly at me
Passing by in the bus,
My face distorted against
The sun’s glare on the bus window.
Examining her countenance with new dedication
Feeling all her thoughts pinging mine.
We looked at each other for as long as it mattered
Long after the bus turned into the next bend
And we slept holding each other
Long into a night that ended so fast
When I was thrown out of the bus
For unnecessarily sleeping too much
Long after the bus had reached its destination

Something has rustled this bog
Where the water leaves a clog
An ulcer shouts out in shades of mud
Mingled in sorts…a brown dust stretch
Rounding beyond the green swamp,
Greenery peeking in this turmoil
Helplessly gazing at the staid sky,
Haplessly awaiting towing
Or compression,
Kids mould some play here
Thinking this is the best play
They have made of the day
And yet like their memory
I cannot remember how it all looked before
Before the grader came;
I think there was an ant hill here
Or was it over there.
Tomorrow could bring yet another feature
More interesting, say like a whole new hill here
And we could start all over again
Trying to demolish it,
Trying to remember what it was that was here.

I think it was-
Reeking of fresh scenery,
The kind where the dust smells aromatic
Dancing in some dry wind.
Breeding these toads and algae and lilies
Beneath the green film over the water
It’s well I forgot what it looked like
I don’t think I want to remember this either
Pointing me to some memory unknown
That cloud couldn’t have drifted that fast
The heaps of soil looks jaded
That gulley is such an art piece
Tell me what tomorrow is like;