Monday, 16 July 2012

Nude tree



I'm a nude tree,
Sans green leaves,
Barks wrinkled.
Reduced to dry woods,
Of branches and boughs.

The dreams of touching the sky,
Kissing the sun resplendent
is no more,
as I grow no more.

In my crevices, parasite grows.
Woodcutter makes holes.
While at night an owl prowls.
Squirrel runs with nuts,
Girls swings with giggles.

Alas! One more day.
I'll be away to a saw mill
for a chair or bench
or palanquin or seat of a sway.

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