like the petal of drenched roses.
Six nude bodies
furtively glide forward
in the practised motions of some dance,
rippling the water's sleek body.
Slowly they close in towards one another,
cutting across the cries
of the kingfisher and the kite.
They move up, six torsos,
black and naked,
deepening the repose of snail and pristine toad.
And now the net is wound,
under twelve greedy, watchful eyes;
threshing bodies of mahseer and tiny fry,
brilliant as the sun.