Kathmandu, Christmas Morning 2009
My wife is up at 6:30 banging around in the bathroom as she hurries to get dressed. The electricity is off again. A yoga class begins in half an hour, and she’s not certain exactly which winding lane the studio is hidden in.
Rooftops slowly fill with women hanging bundles of wet laundry and separating produce into piles of purple onions and knobby potatoes and red and green chiles. A young mother nurses a baby while she clips her toenails.
the clack of a knife
on a cutting board
The garbage collectors have been on strike for five days, a blessing of sorts for the dogs and the destitute who fossick through the rising mounds of rubbish.
Later, I’ll wander off to Durbar Square and wash down the dust with a glass of fresh pomegranate juice.
a monk clings to
a bouncing rickshaw
Note: previously published in Modern Haiku 41.2, Summer 2010