Tree (From My 5th Poetry Collection, 'last Evening Was A River', Penprints (India) ,2024 Poem by Aneek Chatterjee

Every tree is like the front door of
an abandoned house that remains open, always,
irrespective of arrivals and departures.
One by one, many have left this abandoned house,
who gathered here in autumns, and winters,
springs and summers,
for fruits and shelter, for shadow and warmth.
I watch silently, like the lonely tree.
One by one, many have left, who gathered here
in mornings and evenings, afternoons.
The abandoned house remains open
and air fills all rooms and alleys,
balcony and porch, in perpetual vacuum.
Fresh birds are due to come, fresh ecstasy.
The lonely tree prepares itself;
doors are open, always.
They will move out of the abandoned house
once more in summer and autumn
and come back again in mornings and afternoons,
oblivion of agony and joy
of the tree.
_________________________________________________
© Aneek Chatterjee