Now We Are Dangerous

Now we are dangerous in our mighty health,
To find cooing in the creepy tree, a cuddly creature.
A boiling branch manages the curly shape
Of a forgotten message, that lay there and hung.
Deafening sounds emitted from hereabouts
Starve us solidly, and our hearing needs chasing.
The cooing bird retreats with our hand to reach,
Combative hands are like arms that shake
The tree from all its creepiness, maidens are routing.
The juicy fruit is enough, we are apt.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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