Sunday
Apr172011
Sparrow
|Namaste,
A man waits with a weight scale. A bag of potatoes. Cool shade. Dawn the down against red bricks.
He shines his black dress shoes with a newspaper.
A woman in a turquoise shawl decorates stone with her whisk broom.
A woman unfolds green stalk onions on a white plastic bag.
Boys slap Tantric wooden masks removing yesterday.
A light rain falls.
Sparrow wings flutter in your face. Directly.
Their air currents support six prop jets as curious enthralled tourists press their faces against plastic glimpsing Himalayan mystery and beauty.
Metta.