A Quarterly Journal of Contemporary English Language Haibun
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Contents Page: March, 2010, vol 6 no 1


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Kala Ramesh

Mango Moon

I can almost taste the silence, as I walk down the path from my parents' home to the beginning of the village where the mango groves begin. I reach out to touch the hanging mangoes in their fullness, each reflecting a gentle glow of the moon. I'm a young mother, pregnant again, this time blessed with a girl child. As the days pass, I sense the link of an emotional chord with the womb of generations past and future flowing through me . . .

stepping into the river
with bare feet
                      my heart

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