Poem: Monsoon

When the rains come I imagine a little man Moustache of course In a little room With a lever of force

When pulled down Boom! No lights in town

This little man He has his moment of power Taking away our energy With each monsoon shower

We wait and we wait For light to be restored As this fella eats kachauri Or whatever he can afford

Our rooftops drumming Threatening old plumbing

We sit in the dark Adjusting our eyes To a room now quite stark

Our little man He protects us from harm As we grumble and groan Till the skies become calm

Crank! Clank! The lever brings light We find puddles and drips In the abated night

We remember the good Our plants and fields Now watered and fresh Giving rise to new yields