/wp-content/uploads/2025/05/Cover-War-Shock-1.jpg)
From “Lockdown Garden”
A poem
Arvind Krishna Mehrotra
|
25 Dec, 2020
/wp-content/uploads/2020/12/Tree.jpg)
(Courtesy: Basile Morin, Wikimedia Commons)
The bark is smooth, flaky,
the trunk hollow;
midway, black-edged, is a hole
big enough to put your hand in
or the whole arm. From two
sides, branches come out, whipthin,
green-tipped. The tree
is otherwise bare. Too tall to be
a stump, the crepe myrtle
is preparing to flower.
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