|('Sky-bound Earth-bound', pen and ink|
on paper, by Remigius de Souza)
Springtime had gone long ago, since then
I walked, and walked the traders’ mall
Of the recognized teaching marts
And the recognized preaching marts
That promise happiness or welfare.
Now I try to recycle the historic manmade
Garbage collected over many monsoons since
The bygone spring; could I but ever recycle
The extravagant wealth and waste, I wonder,
now knowing a natural order of recycle?
Remigius de Souza