Rains are a Flourish

I see bare trees
bereft of leaves
with dry twigs alone.

They look naked.
Birds and bees
condemn them.

The trees are scorched.
They are devastated.
Gaunt and haggard they are.

The heat wave makes them sigh.
They panic heave and almost die.
Evoke compassion.

From nowhere comes the rain.
Replenishes the earth.
There is jubilation

Leaves come out in green.
The trees regain their composure.
Rains are a flourish.


By meenas17

A lover of classical Carnatic music.
An avid reader, passionate writer, into stocks and investments for livelihood

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