The dead tree

The tree in our backyard stood as if
It was alive and shaking with  wind.

To birds that came to it, it was alive.
Birds pretended  tree was still alive.

They were polite not wanting to hurt,
Talking of  weather and crops, usual .

They talked but  did not look in eyes
Surrounded by  see- through bones.

They pretended  eyes were still alive.
It is awkward to look away from eyes.

Birds have old school polite manners.
And tree is too polite to admit death.


About nisheedhi

Retired banker with poetry and photography as chief interests
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