Exile House

EXILE HOUSE

Our tiled roof dripped
and the four walls threatened to fall apart
but we were to go home soon,

We grew papayas
in front of our house
chillies in our garden
and changmas for our fences,
then pumpkins rolled down the cowshed thatch
calves trotted out of the manger,

grass on the roof,
beans sprouted and
climbed the vines,
money plants crept in through the window,
our house seems to have grown roots.

The fences have grown into a jungle,

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poem by Tenzin Tsundue
Added by Poetry Lover
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