NEIGHBOUR
triggered by the noise
from his lawnmower
an old Indian saying
comes to mind
'you may fight often
with distant relatives
but never be cross
with your neighbour'
standing on my porch
I imagine myself saying to him
"howdy pal, need some help"?
and he answers with a big smile
"thanks brother, have a seat,
let me finish this quickly
and we'll have a beer".
I feel an itch in my feet
to walk towards him
but memories of past events stay me
and I re-examine my skin
as if hoping
to find it changed
not willing to offer the other cheek
(never fully convinced by Gandhi)
I stand on my side of the line
he keeps mowing the lawn on the other side
he has such a nice friendly white face
he is my neighbour
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
such a nice piece of work, Sadhu. You may like to read my poem, Love and L u s t. Thanks.