The Dirt and the Tree

They kept digging up the Dirt around the old Tree,

With hoes fashioned out of it’s branches three,

They mocked its muckiness and scoffed at it’s scruffiness,

But waxed eloquent on the opulent tree,

“Mere mud! So mean! How dare it lean? And that too on this grand old beam!”

Cussing and digging till way past six, they scarce realized they were trapped in their pit!

From the empty moat they’d unwittingly built, they sensed that the Tree had begun to tilt!

Then a wind blew, the dark clouds swelled and the once-mighty tree, with a loud thud fell.

In the moments of silence that dawned in the wake, of the virulent vitriol and unbridled hate,

Mounds of Dirt gathered round and wept, as they mourned the end of their grand old friend.

(image courtesy: https://pixabay.com/en/users/danfador-55851/)

It could’ve been me

Four women,

And a girl barely ten,

Scavenged for the leftovers,

Behind the butcher’s shop,

While I paid for the choicest cuts;

With banknotes, crisp and new.

It could’ve been me,

On the other side.

And for them,

Just another hot summer’s day.

While I gathered my heaven

In a ragged jute sack.

I saw a mother,

And her little child,

Wait to gather the milk,

Spilled over in the crate,

While the milk van unloaded.

And I bought an ice-cream tub.

It could have been me,

On the other side.

Facing hell each day,

While they prayed,

To keep them safe,

Till Thy kingdom come.

Didn’t pick my birth,

Couldn’t twist my fate,

Predict my health,

Or dodge all baits,

What this life gives,

We take. We make.

Yeah, it could’ve been me,

And it could’ve been you.

The privileged few

Feeling entitled to

The cards that we’ve been dealt;

Acting as if we know our bets!

The Dirt and the Tree

They kept digging up the Dirt around the old Tree,

With hoes fashioned out of it’s branches three,

They mocked its muckiness and scoffed at it’s scruffiness,

But waxed eloquent on the opulent tree,

“Mere mud! So mean! How dare it lean? And that too on this grand old beam!”

Cussing and digging till way past six, they scarce realized they were trapped in their pit!

From the empty moat they’d unwittingly built, they sensed that the Tree had begun to tilt!

Then a wind blew, the dark clouds swelled and the once-mighty tree, with a loud thud fell.

In the moments of silence that dawned in the wake, of the virulent vitriol and unbridled hate,

Mounds of Dirt gathered round and wept, as they mourned the end of their grand old friend.

(image courtesy: https://pixabay.com/en/users/danfador-55851/)