Saba Husain. The House By Highway 290.

27 Oct


The rain is thick in the leaves.
A weak thunder beyond
the slip slap of water
on glass and brick,
a steady run-down in the gutters.
When he installed them, the guy said
he could direct the water
to the flowerbeds, or the concrete
below the walkway. I chose the last,
thinking that the washout
would kill the plants.
Now my shoes get soaked,
and a blackish-green is in the slabs.

Between the AC’s humming
the humid house
lies still. The water
in the weed ridden grass
levels with the street.
The rain that slicks the fence,
darkens the trunk
of the Tallow swaying
heavy with green spikes.

The sun is out.
I hear a buzzing in the walls
behind the kitchen cabinet.
The bees are mad.
From a tree, a brown dove calls.
The potted foliage that someone gave
last year was planted too close
to the wall. It’s a bush now
and lavender clusters bloom. An airplane
from the flying school nearby circles,
the dove staggers its cry.
The house is deafening.

6 Responses to “Saba Husain. The House By Highway 290.”

  1. vinita18 October 27, 2014 at 05:02 #

    Awesome imagery! Lovely flow of words!

  2. BAM October 28, 2014 at 02:15 #

    No joke on how awesome your imagery is.

  3. Haroon Siddiqi October 28, 2014 at 17:48 #

    Just awesome poetry, I am impressed.

  4. Riffat Durrani-Moosa October 29, 2014 at 14:17 #

    Simply beautiful…love the flow of words from one happening to another…all the best…khala

  5. Nadina October 31, 2014 at 12:06 #

    Thanks for sharing. A lovely expression of life & seasons…my interpretation 🙂

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