[racchabanda] రచ్చబండ కవితలు

 


For the workers

 

In the paradise 

This Naples city of beauty,

Where there is no parijatham

But the most delicate Frangipani blooms;

 

The rains finally have halted

The work has begun.

 

The new roofs are being laid on the

New buildings,

The old roofs are being ripped

From the old buildings;

To repair last year's Irma's ravaging anger.

 

The Latinos are everywhere in their

Wide brimmed hats. In every Crane, in every truck

On every driveway, every roof, and every lawn

Not one word of English, They just work miracles.

 

In the morning I collect my things

And leave the house,

Only after I say Buenos Dias, with a big grin;

There is no way one can be in the house

While they are ripping and hammering.

 

And I come back, just before they leave

To wave a big happy Muchas gracias to them

It is as good as a big hug; they need it, and I need it 

For us to revive and refuel.

It is a tacit understanding of us all-

Laborers of Love.

 

When they all leave in a hurry

Leaving big red cranes behind the red cones

Tears roll down my cheeks

Thinking of them day long in the hot sun

And how many more roofs there are

For them to fix, Just in this Tiburon alone.

 

Lyla


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Posted by: lylayfl@aol.com
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