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


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.