Thank you for the flower from India
I received her pressed in a cardboard shoe box
She had a Saffron head
Smelt of Juniper
Reminded me of the subcontinent
A pity she was dead
Thank you for the thought
From India sent
Mumbai street scenes
Elephant grass, high humidity
Of boggy marshes
The tiger's trail ahead
Thank you for these false dreams
The cut out conveniences
Of mind, snipped, cellotaped at the seams
To run the reel of old India
In my post-colonial, mobile-phone-rung mind
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