Inspired by one of my favorite Billy Collins’ poems, Where I live…
Beyond the Back Porch
The bungalow nests amongst copy-cats on a hill.
There is a small-patch of back garden, a fence running through it,
supporting burgeoning bougainvilleas of pink, orange and white.
Towering, sturdy red bamboo stand guard in each corner.
Beyond the lean, back porch,
the jungle consumes a hill; spilling into the neighborhood below.
Interrupted by more look-a-like bungalows,
the jungle fights to take its place and remain in charge.
Most days, life, like the jungle,
fights to maintain control over my peace of mind,
but for now, I sit on my couch,
staring out the picture windows that make up my wall
watching the sun paint the sky with hues of
pink, orange and amber.
listening to the busy chatter of songbirds, and the
call of the frogs building the crescendo of their symphony.
I am grateful that the city
hasn’t won the battle;
bestowing me with the wonder of