This Morning

It smells like rain when I wake up. 
I look outside my window and its dreary. 
I step outside into the balcony 
The trees are a gangrenous green.
All I see are the gray rooftops— 
Gray and dirty. 

It smells earthy—my favorite kind 
But that doesn’t stop my lungs 
From feeling like they are gangrenous too. 

I see the peacock and a peahen;
I’m filled with overwhelming desire 
I want to shoot them. 
Take their very lives and laugh. 

But I see the peacock move away—
On the next rooftop. 
The peahen balancing itself at the edge, 
I wonder will she fall. 

Suddenly, I feel a burst of empathy for her
“Fly away, you fool.”
It’s pouring harder now. 
He has turned his back to her face 
And he still continues to bask 
On the next rooftop. 
She walks the edge
“Fly away, you fool.
He doesn’t care,
You still have wings—leave! 
He has left anyway.”

I take a deep breath; 
Go in for a shower, 
I come back an hour later. 
The rain has stopped.
The peahen is still there,
Perched by the edge still
Waiting. Still. Waiting. 
Still waiting. 

I return to my desk—
Also waiting. Still.