We walk under a scorching sun next to the river. He is my guide. Decades younger than me. Yet every time he speaks, I blush. His voice is soft. I barely hear him above the river’s song. As I move in closer to hear his stories of this ancient Indian oasis, I see the delicacy of his fingers pointing to the flowers. As we climb the rocks, I watch the muscles of his calves flex. The heat has my head spinning and the rapid waters my heart racing.


                  fan palm
               fingers reach into the green
                  spring yearning




Previously published in ContemporaryhaibunOnline.com, Oct. 2010, vol. 6 no 3.

8 Responses

  1. Terri French Says:

    wonderful, Genie. Full of suppressed passion!

  2. lornacahall Says:

    so sensuous. wonderful

  3. Golem100 Says:


  4. kathy Says:


  5. judith ingram Says:

    wonderfully evocative. at eighty four, I've been there.

  6. shaheen Says:

    the guide has really guided ur passions thanks for lovely lines

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    There are no acquired resources and facilities are present along with the government funding is also the most important cause of less education plans in the villages, there should be free education for the children.

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