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Monsoon of 'morrow

by Julie Adams

His father later told me his name
in a whisper, Sanjeet,
as tears rolled into his dark-rimmed eyes
heavy, like brooding storm clouds,
monsoons of Mumbai

I sat down in the street, stopped to watch him frolic
with his younger brother, running, tag
yelling, tag, laughing all the while
before he grew weary, and sat
on the curb beside me. He smiles.

His father comes with a dazzling platter of cake
slices, arranged like a variety pizza at a nearby cake shop.
This boy of barely 17 tells me he is to be married
in the morning. His eyes tell me there is more.

One piece of cake is layers of dough, sugar and spices
between. He pulls it apart as he tells me he will die soon,
in days perhaps, so the wedding must be tomorrow, must be merry.
But he worries, as any boy would, with so much on the plate
before him.

He asks me to pick a piece to try. I tear some dough
from the sugar-layered slice he fingered apart. We eat.
I tell him it tastes like coca-cola and tamarind. He laughs
and nods at his father, who's smile is held
against his cheeks like a mighty dam.

The child worries about his platypus, who will care for it,
and I tell him I would. He smiles again. I savor his sweet maple eyes
and want something to give back, to share, here and now.
So as he is roused again to play with his brother, I slip
into a tiny print shop across the way.

His father joins me, his words falling from plum lips
like summer rain, first sparse patterings, then suddenly
clamoring against sheet metal, deafening, before the sky clears.
He composes as he lifts a moon print from the shelf,
it calms him, and once he pulls his gaze back to me,
I buy it.

I offer the print to Sanjeet, a wedding present, a farewell gift,
an offering to this dream boy I will remember
every time I see the moon, smiling as wide as he did.
He has woken me today, this manchild, and his eyes
like soil, are buried deep within.




02/04/2009

Author's Note: ...some poems speak to you in dreams...

Posted on 02/04/2009
Copyright © 2024 Julie Adams

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Charlie Morgan on 02/04/09 at 05:24 PM

...what a lovely dream and dream boy[and daddy], good, good, julie, i like i like...

Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 02/04/09 at 05:58 PM

Dreams always make for intriguing poetry, as you've proven once again Jewels.

Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 02/04/09 at 07:34 PM

"...his eyes like soil," wow, this is captured so wonderfully, Julie. A most enjoyable read. Thanks.

Posted by Gabriel Ricard on 02/05/09 at 08:56 PM

This does kind of have the energy of something from a dream. In any case, I really liked the storytelling capabilities in this.

Posted by Joe Cramer on 02/06/09 at 02:40 AM

Jewels... this is quite exceptional.... I could not rate it high enough!!! Ah... the stuff that dreams are made of.....

Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 02/07/09 at 02:07 PM

Gorgeous, Jewels.

Posted by Elizabeth Jill on 02/07/09 at 02:11 PM

Gorgeous!

You are an art-skilled poetess dream-bearing magnet!

Posted by Jason Wardell on 02/10/09 at 08:04 AM

This is beautiful! As a citizen more of the internet than of the world, I looked to see what the name means in Sanskrit. "Invincible"--a name fitting for the moon, the memory.

Posted by Sandy M. Humphrey on 02/11/09 at 10:30 PM

Lovely imagery and the story quiet absorbing, such a dream and a memory. smh

Posted by Ava Blu on 02/12/09 at 03:28 PM

this is fantastic!

Posted by Meghan Helmich on 02/12/09 at 07:42 PM

i'm loving this. it's not too much.

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