Jaipur

Dust and stone in vertiginous shoots,
Illuminated pink against the dusk.
Half-drunk and lost, we cruise the streets,
that crawl and slither beneath us.
At knee-height, traders ply their wares:
Marigolds and glittered decals of deities.
In an attempt to interact,
I pay too much for a Ganesh.

Once back in our hotel,
I unfurl it on the cover of my journal.
Inside I write an imperfect haiku:

Jaipur is mental,
To the Amber Fort tomorrow!
Will write more then.

I close the book and lie back on the bed,
Exhausted and overwhelmed.
Green
in
Pink.


I'll be offline for the next couple of weeks (on holiday), but will be back with more needless words in April. Thanks for reading!