A young thing in my backyard

In the backyard

I see a young thing

I turned kind;

Gave some water.

I heard the voice,

“Glad you came by,  

You’re my extension, a muse,

Or raga or just a thought….

Stay with me till dark,

For we make a good pair. 

I shall breath deeper

And mature faster.”

My wife got jealous

And acted fast….

Now here, lies on the table

The erstwhile young thing,

Legs spreading….

Pity, the young thing died so young

To make me write an obituary.

It went into my green salad.