This piece of land

You arrived

with your lanterns

gifted this piece

of abandonment

big enough

to build a house - just

a clearing. You left

the next day. Cruised

from Bombay.

I said tomorrow

you’ll be gone and I

will still be here sorry

for my children.

I’ll visit -

I promised

- the one you left. Complicit

the macaca

will climb

on my shoulders

and steal my hat

as I wave they will scream

but you won’t hear.

They could climb

on your shoulders speak

for stowaways with

the silver teapot

the rolled carpet. Leave us

nothing. Speak

not of displacement.

They could

whisper in your ears as you

sailed away obscured.

What about that eh?

They could pull your ears

and put their hands

over your eyes

so you couldn’t see

how we cried.

That’s how it was

when you left

the macaca stayed after

all. Bared their teeth and ran

their tails curled beneath

and I drank

this piece of land.