Poetry from Thailand

Original poetry written in and about rural Thailand.

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Location: Chong Khae, Nakhonsawan, Thailand

Thursday, September 8, 2011

From My Balcony

Ayutthaya, Thailand
An IReport filed by a retiree 7 Sept. 2011
Around 4:30 – 5:15 pm
as seen from his sixth-floor balcony

The wind comes like a blur from
left to right, racing like the skater
at the end of the whip.


A big round momma tree below
begins rollicking like a disco dancer
with one arm up twirling a lasso
and yelling “Hello, boys!”
Slim slips of trees, not up to
her waist salaam in the chorus
around her ample hips.


The sky is now a black, spanking
new blackboard-black and I gape at
it like a first grade boy on day one
thinking this doesn’t look too good.

Artillery flashes make me blink,
and the report sends birds dog-fighting
in the air, corkscrewing up in a manic
attempt to gain altitude.


A dirty gray curtain of rain begins
marching toward me like foot
soldiers on a flank. A hotel two
miles away is lost in this scrimmage
then the mall closer still.


Red and blue Thai roofs and the green
fields are smeared whites now. Then, the
main force hits. White tracers are all around
me. I’m grabbing stuff off the balcony and
yelling, “It’s a trick, the center is to the left!
To the left!”


How long is a storm? A battle? A lifetime?
Hard to say, but when it’s over, it’s over.
The road behind the mall now has a sleek,
wet, new-car-ad look to it.

A woman pushes a stroller, twins I think,
and dodges a few puddles. The sun
breaks through out where the flank started and
seems to be rising in the clouds, although
I know this is the west and it is setting.


I go inside, close the glass slider quietly,
and turn on the A/C.

All rights reserved by the author Forrest Greenwood.

It is the rainy season here.  We get a storm like this almost everyday.

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