Trees Gone By

By Mahir Vasudev

Loitering in the woods,

Watching stags eat grass as much as they could.

Eagles’ eyries on the tress,

Feeding eaglets one, two and three.

As soon as the rain arrives,

Beautiful lichens grow and rise.

Suddenly, I wake up as the mosquito bites,

Just to realise it was a beautiful dream in disguise.

It’s all concrete jungle left,

While birds find a tree for a nest.

No more grass for stags to eat,

Trees are gone and now it’s only the scorching heat.

By Mahir Vasudev