We gulped down what she had readied,
left her alone to bear all chores,
and descended downhill till the river.
We climbed the ravishing rhododendrons,
peeled off its red attire,
and sucked what it owned.
Our mouths watered at berry’s sight and attacked it until we bled.
We jumped over stones,
ran over mounds of sand,
chased the love-making fishes.
We took shelter under boulders during rain,
and climbed the hill back home,
merely to reach for dinner.
She would be waiting for her student kids,
with dinner at the hearth, but hungry,
and our stomachs churned with guilt.
by Noru Sherpa