
The peach tree was near death
When we first made our home
Beneath Namunukala.
The bark of the bough
Was cadaver grey,
Mottled with white.
The only life was
In the parasite
Adding unsought leaves.
On Poya days, the full moon
Miracle arouses the aroma
Of Queen of the Night
Epiphyllum oxypetalum.
On Vesak poya,
The night sky was clotted with stars.

In the day,
Mynahs and black robins
Tussle for food
With minivets, tolerant


In the knowledge
That there is enough for all.

But hooligan monkeys
Bored
With a diet of jak, want it all
And throw their weight around,
Frightening the birds
Until themselves are seen off,
Only for awhile,
By the howling dogs.

Monkeys pelting their turds
Retreat to re-form
And fight another day.

Some peaches lie on the ground,
Worms and flies burrowing
Into the rotting fuzz.
