The dry moss between
The tiles spread like a maze
On the terrace-
Little black ants obsessively
Follow the trail to solve,
I don't know what.
Strands of cobwebs across
The railings shine against
The rising sun-
The redundant Dish-TV plate
Pokes its concavity to
The sky to harness
I don't know what.
And if it wasn't for that
Dirty underwear on its shoulder-
The clothesline across the
Rear windows would have
Eloped with the laundry basket
Long ago---
Like the chair left there facing
The lake on the balcony-
Constantly thinking of
Jumping off in the water
Just for the sake of it-
But something holds it back.
I don't know what.