A Suburban Poem

I count my blessings

as I watch the bulbul swinging

from a twig

letting its joy out

in sharp twittering song.

In a time

when eternal hunger

of the lowly humans 

lap up ponds, trees and lands

why this mango grove is spared

along with a few others

I wonder.

The spiffy squirrel

scurrying up

the tall slender palm

beside the pond,

where in the night

fishes play with the moon

in rippling water,

and prefer depth in day

to keep the herons

and kingfishers at bay,

almost picked a quarrel

with a red capped woodpecker

the other day.

The trees conspire

With their blooms

to trap the bumblebees.

I am the lone watcher.

I do count my blessings

for such godly sights

even these days.


Posted for Poetics – suburb poetry over @ dVerse



8 thoughts on “A Suburban Poem

  1. The scenery and the air you described indeed sound like a blessing. The shortness of the lines and the line breaks made it easier for me to get immersed and feel like I am transported right inside your poem.

  2. What a lovely island of nature. So much of it is being carved into paved streets, strip malls and fast food restaurants. My father was a farmer, and he used to say “One day, the world will be black-topped!” I sometimes think of that when I see yet another farmer’s field turned into a subdivision. Thank you for sharing your beautiful view!

Thank You :)

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