When birds desert
old crumbling tree
standing alone
against crimson sky,
what goes through its
dried branches swaying
in woebegone winds?
The humble abode
of life for all,
my massive bark, lively
green leaves on sportive
stems, my love emissions,
all were good for all
And now, I am
an old house that
refuses to fall,
but no more in use
in the new green-centers,
a house no more in use,
no more recognized
even by those who
drank my life to the lees
A contest entry
- not in use... by PrabhuDayal Khattar.
300 points, ended October 4, 2008, 8 entries
Honorable mention
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
Does this make any sense?
Comments
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i like the nature here - the sighsa of old branches weighing other life, it makes me smile and sigh at the same time, a good poem.
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wow
This is such a beautiful expression of How I wish things would be sometimes.
truly i like first and second standzas....
Thank you for sharing your thoughts through poem.
Great write
and thanks so much for sharing this poem.
Glenn
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Humm..you have sketched the dtruth of life in the words....well done..and thanks for sharing it...my friend...
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thanks for the HM. great contest.
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