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The Shade

Something that happened near my home inspired this poem. It was the needless cutting down of a beautiful Bougainvillea plant.

the-shade

It had pink flowers

Drooping down with leaves

Its slim branches hung like art

We loved it with all our heart..


It homed the sparrows

Who lived in bliss

Rushing in and out through the air

They returned every eve to their lair.


They chattered in loud screeches

The bikers passed by in their breeches

Lovers stood under its bower

The cat merrily sang a song so sour.


A little maiden saw the sight

Picked up the sheds

And put on the right side

Her pigtails hung from left to right

She waited beneath it every day

For her ride.


The women made head bands

All scarlet and grand

The tweets called it home

A better cave than Rome.


Then one day

On a gruesome night

Came the men

To clean it up tight.


the-shade

They poked and prodded

Cut and burnt it

To save the light

And shrug the little ones’ plight.


The sparrows returned to a barren patch

To find their beds all scattered

Along with the broken shells

That did not hatch.


The ground was a bed of fresh bloom

Butchered to a degree of extreme gloom

The lovers came no more

Neither did the sparrows

Like a ghost undone

The space where stood the lovely Bougainvillea

Now lay concrete like a snazzy little fella.

© 2019 Tiyasha Maitra

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