Aunties and their daughters
pay a fortune to see the hills
burning fuel on roads
carved out of rock
they talk of the crisp mountain breeze
plunked down in AC cars
they point at tea gardens green
through thick sheets of tinted glass
"Look there, a lonely hut
amidst the greens the only hut,
what a lovely place to live!
Dressed in straw, bathed in sunlight,
ringed with only rows of tea.
Mother, I want a house like that,
oh what a lovely place to live!"
Somewhere inside the lonely hut
sat weeping a young lonely girl
cussing at the straw, at the
scathing sunlight and at the
endless rows of tea.
As she plucked leaves warily that noon,
a snake slithered to her feet
but only the trees heard her wail
only the breeze cupped her face.
Even at an age of eighteen
she would not admit
what a lovely place to live!
was her ugly lonely hut.