Raised To Be Razed

By Shaunak Bakshi

A mighty gust of wind

Playful but rough

Blew me off my abode

My home, my bough

Naively, I laughed and twirled

In the winds of fall

As I passed a scowling man

Wrapped in a threadbare shawl

And I saw his scowl disappear

As he reached for me

Shawl blowing this way and that

His face lighting up with glee

But with a sigh of sorrow

The wind decisively blew me away

Into the crematorium of leaves

To fulfill my destiny, orange to grey

I saw wayward glares as I landed

Scuffing against the unending carpet

Of bodies of leaves in states of decay

Orange in an ocean of grey, a tempting target

As I lay there in barely concealed agony

I felt the mottled carpet tremble

And as a cloddish foot descended upon me

To myself my last words I mumble

“I know that like Atlantis

I was fated to be razed”.

By Shaunak Bakshi