monsoonal meanderings

i thought of you
in the unperfumed stillness
of a sticky monsoon evening
filled with mosquito bruises.
love was a breezy affair
that danced between leaves
of bright laburnum trees
promising eternal spring.
now clouds hang ominously
determinedly unwilling to pour
and peacocks cry hoarse
walking desolate concretescapes
with their trailing burdens
gathering dust and ashes.
soon they will chance upon
the winter of discontent
and all will be as it must.