Paving

We paved the blocks,

he and I,

brick by brick,

carefully on the paths

that took us

to the world outside.

“It’s important that we do it

before the rain arrives”, he said.

“Mmm” I replied

half-heartedly,

thinking of the frog spawn

and tadpoles

my daughter

collected in a glass jar

last year.

“I hate when it gets muddy.

Can hardly walk without getting dirty,”

he mused

in an escalating tone of annoyance.

Memories echoed,

a young bride,

amused by the place

where fishes walked on earth

and tortoises came visiting

after the monsoons ceased.

“Keeping the compound clean

will no longer be bothersome,” he added.

The dancing grass,

the wild flowers,

the delicate wings of mayflies,

little souvenirs of existence

which I gathered every morning

after the rains

swept my mind.

We paved the blocks

he and I

brick by brick,

carefully on the paths,

drenching in sweat.

I sighed!