COLONIZATION

Trees are poems that earth writes for the sky; we fell them down and turn them into paper, that we may record our emptiness. –Kahlil Gibran

There it was

in the neighbour’s compound

leaning against my backyard wall

the curious tree

peeking into many homes

with its unruly branches

whose strange fruit

invited the parrots

the sparrows and the noisy crows

the chew-chew-chew squirrels

running up and down

its coarse roads

the chatter that filled

many uneasy silences

and kept the kids and pets amused

the thick leaves like gossiping ladies

whispered and murmured

a thousand secrets

and then at dusk huddled

their green heads together

to sway with the temple bells

the breeze it sent forth

never claiming its due

in making hot afternoons bearable

the breeze inspiring songs

in these lifeless urban homes

now there is a stump

of memories, breeze, green joys

and so many little nooks

which were homes

The tree was guilty

of being uncivilized

of giving without asking

so now they have

asked for its life!