A poem salvaged from the bin…

That morning when the sun
Was in hurry to show his fury
I settled down on the sofa
My weary brow dripping
The humid weather outside
I had the bin emptied before me
And a crumpled piece of paper
Caught my blinking vision

“The tree reveals of the root-rot
Only when the leaves begin to fade
And the branches stand ready to fall
But still there come a bird or two
For a brief rest…

I give the roots all that I can to nourish
Unaware and unguarded…”

My eyes declined to go further
My sweat
My tears
Felt alike on my cheek…

The empty bin gawked

10sep2010
13.20hrs

poem by Indira Babbellapati
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!