The fiery wind burns our skin
this simmering summer noon
but our resolve is not paper thin.

the river is all ours
I tell her
and she whispers love notes.

When we retreat under the banyan
she scans the grey for clouds
and I her eyes for a mystic hint.

how lovely it would be
if it rains now
she says.

it would
I swear by the river.

We walk away
dreaming good crop
swaying in the river wind.