Post-Holiday Blues

On a mid-September night
Karaoke drifts from the courtyard
Cantonese ditties and Adele’s Skyfall
The neon pharmacy sign glows
An urban marquee
Grandfathers and grandmothers gather
For an almost impromptu festival
The day before, families sat for mooncake
Today, their absence is more keenly felt


Mid-September Morning

A chill along the fingertips
Between the casings seek a cool air
Permeating cracks and forgotten windows
Thrown open in the blaze of summer
The Indian time has snapped
Frost threatens
Arising, a craving for crimson and ochre
Colors of warmth