Bathing at night near the jackfruit tree

We'll keep it a secret
This moon three-quarter
Fireflies flickering in the hedges
Crickets repeating deep mantras
Water flowing down our bathing bodies
The iris pool to let the moon take a closer
   look at our nakedness
And this jackfruit tree that turns every night
   into a dark tunnel, opening inside a sleeping
   poet's head
And though everybody knows that nights are kept
   in tiny jars, we’ll stash this one away
Way back among the folds of this
  dark valley where it’s dimly visible
on moonless nights.

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Salil Chaturvedi
salilwheels@gmail.com