early today, the mynahs filled
the mud-banks with songs-
hyacinths all shrivelled-
we walked through overgrown aisles
inbetween fields of tasseled corn,
silence yolky on the slant sun.
once upon a time, we held hands,
and sang rhymes all these paths-
the pond has swallowed itself up-
like us, drifted towards cataclysmic life,
like us, like one father and daughter
rendered strangers by irreconcilable time.