We walk along the river-
a shining line snaking through the summer sands.
Dew drops hang from the edge of grass-threads.
The Indian Scoped Owl
peers at us from the edge of the eucalyptus branch.

Hooves rustle through the foliage of morning.
The white spots and brown body
of the young chital are gone in half a pulse.
A golden fox, its bushy tail curled
in concentration follows the scent of his prey
but disappears when he sees us.

A little distance away, a red mushroom sprouts
from the etchings of age on the body of a tree.
A rose-red spider crawls on the crunch of ashy leaves.
A lapwing calls out from the womb of the deep-blue sky,
inviting us deeper into the summer, deeper home.

Preeth Ganapathy is a software engineer turned civil servant from Bengaluru, India. Her recent works have appeared or are forthcoming in The Ekphrastic Review, Visual Verse, Sparks of Calliope, Quill and Parchment, Shot-glass Journal and elsewhere. Her microchaps, A Single Moment and Purple have been published by Origami Poems Project. She is also a two-time winner of Wilda Morris’s Poetry Challenge.