like flung gravel
rain begins

i dash out
to fetch my laundry

and see her
under the mango tree
across the lane

her t-shirt's drenched
from streaming leaves
and shopping strewn
around her feet

her brown face scowls
at the leaden sky
as i call out

"you need a place
to shelter?"

her features crease with a grin
as we carry her bags to my verandah

she stands like a poised chesspiece
at the far end of my dry porch, casting
shy, coy glances over the gap
of generations, cultures, genders

i wish now that the rain would stop
and leave me to my known, if lonely, ways.