she runs, slippers
in one hand, the sari hitched up to her knees
stops at the door,
and laughing, on the doormat wipes her feet
bunches of coconuts
glisten and the serrated leaves all drip and nod
the trunks are all
half wet, longitudinally, from the bottom to the top
with cracks of
lightning in the ponderous grey clouds the rains have finally arrived
and though she’d
been waiting with bated breath still took her by surprise
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