Tuesday, 29 July 2014

Dark Green.


Mother looked down at him proudly. 

He was standing on his own. Swaying, but standing.  

Hard and quick footsteps thudded. 

They crushed him and went up to Mother.  

Tearfully, she bowed and tended to her son’s killer.


The traveler had found shade. 
Posted by at

2 comments:

  1. Deep30 July 2014 at 08:15

    I don't follow much of poetry, but this is quite beautiful!
    "Tearfully, she bowed and tended to her son’s killer" - loved this line!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. TSD30 July 2014 at 21:06

      I had intended this to be one of those very very short stories depicting the plight of a tree at the hands of mankind. You have taken it many notches higher by calling it poetry. Thank you, Deeptiman :) And welcome to the blog!

      Delete

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)