A Really, Really Short Story
Like a tree in love with death
she arose from the thicket
and called
for the clear blue sky and waited
for the thunder to strike at her roots and the crest.
The sky smiled
a clear blue smile of sagacity.
A little white dot of a moon
was biding his time
and looking down in anxiety.
Neither the sky nor the moon
knew the whereabouts of the lightning that kills.
And so long as the sky held aloft
the waning and waxing moon
the tree was going live, not die
at the hands of the capricious storm.
Sushama Karnik(c)
Like a tree in love with death
she arose from the thicket
and called
for the clear blue sky and waited
for the thunder to strike at her roots and the crest.
The sky smiled
a clear blue smile of sagacity.
A little white dot of a moon
was biding his time
and looking down in anxiety.
Neither the sky nor the moon
knew the whereabouts of the lightning that kills.
And so long as the sky held aloft
the waning and waxing moon
the tree was going live, not die
at the hands of the capricious storm.
Sushama Karnik(c)
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