Standing in the lake The man casts his jala net Dinner is at stake

Oh flower garden Where have all the flowers gone Not Bob Dylan song

Night of howling winds Dead leaves scurry everywhere He yearns to be home.

Choosing good durians My sixty-six-year old hands Get poked with pinholes

The name I think of After the phone stopped ringing The inventor Bell

Monkeys run around Foraging from tree to tree Driven by hunger

A dark moonless night Lightning streaks across the sky The girl shrieks in fright

GrabFood delivers My order of a pizza Drenched by the rain

He trembles in fear At the sight of the needle The nurse wears a smile

Mud prints on the porch His cat is at it again Chasing little birds