We would play seven stones game, piled on other
Toppling them with ball that would fly into bushes.
The lazy afternoon heat beat on our sleeping trees.
We would retrieve a ball from the sleeping bushes.
The birds had gone on to their own afternoon nap.
We would enter scrunching leaves sending lizard
Scurrying to the hole of its wall, a triangular head
Popping out a while to hear our tiny feet in leaves.
Up on a mound we deeply looked into a dark hole
To look for slithering sound of the resident snake.
We would run down fast, afraid of its unheard hiss
Falling to ground with coins of kneecaps bleeding.
We would climb the guava tree to highest branch.
Catching the squirrel eating fruit of our ripeness.
In evening we played badminton with a marigold,
Smelling yellow petal shreds sprinkled in the sky.