Solitary Bather (River Maha Oya)

After the elephants left, their fans in tow Ooing and aaing at babies, or bull’s erections The public bathing session done and dusted, Tables at the café lost all their trade, Beggars and hawkers chased their human prey. Even the chipmunks vanished into the trees Behind thin-legged mahouts in torn vests. River and jungle merged again as one Churned by the monsoon into coils of mud Waves rolled over hotly in the sun Like heavy pages in a weighty book. A girl in a scarlet sari stepped from the palms Like a butterfly floating up on fragile wings Waded into the water up to her waist Laughing at something or nothing. She tipped her head back to the turning waves And with a brass bowl scooped the pool like grain Again and again the bright drops fell on her breasts A noon-day shining, a shower of golden rain Alive in her youth like a flame. The sari bobbing round, a sailing poppy Such joy she showed in that primordial act Lifting her lean brown arms to greet the sun