Distressed
A walk brings to light
a headless apparition.
Kids passing by,
peer at the eerie figure.
A rotting tree trunk,
eaten by hungry termites,
gazes at you,
with that haunted
'no more tears left' look,
speaking silent tales
of a glorious past,
when wisps of sunlight
would slide through its
swaying green crown,
playing a game of
'dance to the wind' over
hordes of busy ants,
marching in line over the
hardened sand below,
reminding you
of a yet 'unfinished' task,
for the present as well as
future generations -
planting and nurturing more trees.
a headless apparition.
Kids passing by,
peer at the eerie figure.
A rotting tree trunk,
eaten by hungry termites,
gazes at you,
with that haunted
'no more tears left' look,
speaking silent tales
of a glorious past,
when wisps of sunlight
would slide through its
swaying green crown,
playing a game of
'dance to the wind' over
hordes of busy ants,
marching in line over the
hardened sand below,
reminding you
of a yet 'unfinished' task,
for the present as well as
future generations -
planting and nurturing more trees.