the setting sun glows orange reflected
amongst the green shoots of the watered wheat
watered for the first time at about three weeks
and waterlogged for the first time in months it’s a feast
that’s attracted a dozen egrets pacing the skewed square
criss-crossing each other with measured strides as a pair
of lapwings watch from the embankment and a couple
of kingfishers one on a wire and the other on a supple
low branch on which to beat whatever is caught dead
sit bobbing eagerly now their tail and now their head
even some pigeons and doves and some noisy parakeets
scour the nearby grassy paths for something to eat
having been attracted to the spot by what looked like a treat
a scraggly mongrel ready any moment to beat a hasty retreat
approaches an ibis who comes probing the fields before it
and ignoring the dog carries on earnestly with its wings folded
behind its back. the mongrel thus disregarded goes
back to looking for rats flushed out of their burrows
and a pair of starlings - passing migrants, they’re early – groom
sitting close together on the neem by the overgrown tubewell room
with wet-mud-socks the collared resident now comes by on his rounds
and freezes at the sight of the trespasser with his nose in the ground
then silently rushes forward empowered by righteous anger
to maul to crush to take down the insolent intruder
the pond heron that’s been staring motionless and wide-eyed
now suddenly comes to life in a brilliant flash of white
and the poor mendicant alerted just in time to the attack
barely has time to take in the barbed furball as he looks back
but takes to his heels tail tucked without a moment’s hesitation
which seeing the ferocity of the chase was a wise decision
and thus he’s chased past the lapwings - who circle cursing after
them - and over embankments with much splashing of water
right across the sun’s reflection that’s now a shimmering band
all the way to the refuge of the distant sugarcane stand
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