Poem: mango leaf

Tell me

how the leaf felt 

as it fell

from the scorched height

of the mango tree,

thirsting at the expense 

of that powdery green fruit,

twirling down fluttered

unfettered towards a clean refreshing mirror

and dipping, tip and stem

into a cold pool, drinking full its fill,


only to choke, chemical fury

rising and sliding – hot and chlorinated

before a current (man made)

tipped it on its back

to stare up at its brothers and sisters

before an unmade drowning death

dragged it to the bottom,

to be plucked out;

to be cleaned out;

to be a clog:

A leaf no more.

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