Peace on Carlton, G. R. (Grand Rapids)



There are large black ants here

And the field mouse

That crawled its way in

Found swift death with a whiff of

Swiss Cheese,

Product of Norway.

We don’t have a cat, yet.

I detest cats, their selfishness.

But I like it here on Carlton.

Wilcox Park from our back door

Spreads in grand profusion

And G. R.’s trees enfold me again.

The German Shepherd from the clutter

Of the red house next door

Made a grab for my calf,

Ripped my precious brown corduroy.

I swung with a growl

And the big, baaad dog ran.

When the 30-miles-an-hour traffic

Slackens, the quietness surpasses

All city silences I’ve known,

Except the delicate slumber

Of the Bangalore YMCA

Heightened by rain on

Red-tiled roofs

And banyan-wide leaves,

Crickets,

And the hard ball being hit

By the flat bat of a

Graceful brown sahib.

But I love it here on Carlton.

Yes, the clock on the stained-brown table

Counts time aloud, a bicycle

Rattles on the sidewalk

And the thought strikes me:

Someday, must help India

Build houses, grow food . . .


But when my beloved comes for me with bells

Fireflies in her brown eyes

I go to her

Knowing why I’ve never known more peace

Than here on Carlton

From: Split in Two

(Revised Second Edition, 2004, Writers Workshop, Kolkata)
Copyright 2004 Michael Chacko Daniels