Village

No neon signs here
 just the soft flicker
 of a lamp
 hanging from a porch
 that creaks
 with stories

Morning smells like rice boiling
 like earth after rain
 like someone humming
 while sweeping dust
 that doesn’t mind being there

Old men play chess
 under a mango tree
 time doesn’t bother them
 it just sits quietly
 watching the pieces move

Calm village
 isn’t on the map
 but it’s where your heart goes
 when it forgets
 how to hurry