Sap


Sap oozes into brown coconut shells

Firm hands grasp the trunks

The mercilessly cut, gasp

 

Slanting hordes of trees

stretch up, wailing silently

at the fleeing sun

White blood trickles

under the cover of plastic

as nature cries a drizzle

over her unedible milk

 

Hot tea talks to a damp newspaper

discussing the falling price of life

Age stumbles around with rubber sheets

chasing the afternoon sun.

 

Low grade tears continue

after the tapping knife has taken away

the virgin milk

till one day the NRI needs

all his golden eggs together

 

The trees milked dry

stand ready for the slaughter

The aged one wonders about her daily gruel

after the loot has been stashed away

 

Eventually the sap in every vein

dries out.

©Reena Prasad 18th October 2012

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