The tenth of March – my package was returned
late on a chilly, windy, clear, sunny day
The same day I saw from my desk window
a rare Swallow-tailed Kite slowly flying circles
around a Red-tailed Hawk – as if in
conversation
The package crisscrossed the ocean to and from India
with brown wrapping crumbled, torn, dirty – and a
dangling yellow tag hand-marked in script from Mumbai
All neatly crisscrossed by tightly tied yarn with one
strand sealed and stamped with a big blob of black wax
Oops – a stinkbug just flew onto the package
I fetch and moisten a piece of toilet paper
as I think this flying bug may need a drink
I nudge the long-legged brown bug onto the tissue
and place the combination beneath a dark glass on
my bedroom dresser, and attach a Post-it note to
remind myself to release the bug in next day’s sun
Now, back to “The Package”
The package contains my latest water book
entitled, “Water Voices from Around The World”
sent to a contributing author of Indian fame
It had been opened and then resealed with
a strip of brown packaging tape imprinted with
the words “Foreign Post Mumbai” and red letters
in Standard Hindi, which I assume announce the same
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem