Visiting the Ducks | Poetry

A body of water
and a family of ducks,
it is home to them
what for us
is momentary exile.

A body of water
and a family of ducks,
I wait for them to swim
as they first fill themselves up;
two are caged,
three roam free.

A body of water
and a family of ducks.

I wasn’t very keen on visiting the ducks. I pass them quite often, but as they say in popular culture, there was a gust of wind and I was drawn. What was waiting did not confine to a body of water and a family of ducks, a poem was hiding near by. Visiting the ducks. 

In the photo above, you can see three ducks having perhaps their evening meal which mostly seemed like bread. 

The Sound of Autumn

You can smell the spring, feel the summer, hear the autumn and feel the winter.

The first thing on my mind when I hear the word autumn, is surely the sound of the leaves, walking over them; the crisp dry yellow leaves. The sound as I step over them in the backyard.

Autumn’s yellow leaves are not very prominent in Kathmandu here, so its quite a sight if I get to see a field full of yellow leaves. I’d like to jump over one whenever possible, stepping over and hearing the sound of the leaves.


Pictures are from Shijiazhuang, China during my visit in 2013. Autumn was definitely the best season there apart from the blue sky during summers.