Legend had it of the young banker,
Squatting hunched up on the attic
Up above the swirling waters as if
He was poring over banking books
Or history of banks down the ages.
He was history mad, water averse.
Actually he loved pillow too much
Being bald banker off the rockers.
We were not yet bald, just trainee,
And young ,not yet off the rockers.
What lovely rain to drown under.
What pale sky to be afraid about.
A sky would spank ears with rains
To instil nature fear in bank mind.
Legend has it of mom now in sky
A river that spilled a flowing dam
To turn a legend as bodies flowed.
Her legend turns ashes in my river.