Photo coutesy: Archana Bahukhandi
Blades of grass
tickle my naked feet.
at the local park
is too luscious to resist.
I yank my shoes with untied laces.
Socks follow shoes
as I step on the grass
and let the swords of green
to the grey weight of my dark thoughts.
Yes, summer in Doha
gets to me.
I feel trapped
in the oppressive heat of forty seven degrees.
humans in air-conditioned cages of homes and offices.
Cold and lonely
I rise before the sun
to go out,
and to feel alive again,
despite the seventy percent humidity.
The green rapiers
rip through the web of negativity I've entangled myself in.
A smile escapes.
"Thank you, dear grass."
"I trample and yet you give.
You are awesome!"
"Spare a thought for the dew drop."
"She touched you too, you know.
I'm here, but she's no more.
Did you feel her cool embrace?"