The moon smelled good

This season our backyard coconut
Hid it under their swinging fronds

Behind an asbestos-roofed shack,
Its presence marked by a shadow

Of cow swishing tail on the insects
In the backyard’s lonely darkness.

The cow looked it in water trough
Giving out its low plaintive moan.

Her eyes shone through the night
As rope of pail seemed to move.

Actually it was just a water snake
That had made the well its home.

Hibiscus stood mute by the well;
Its flowers went gray by a moon

Tiny flowers bloomed on creeper
That had climbed red-tiled roof.

The fragrance filled the night air.
It was a moon that smelled good.


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