The Plum Tree, poetry by Prabhanjan K. Mishra at

The Plum Tree

The Plum Tree

written by: Prabhanjan K. Mishra


I wonder…
if this fruity fragrance in air
wafts from my skin,
its tangy-sweetness tingling,
misting senses,
I wonder….

Not yet a woman, no more a kid,
gingerly stepping over pubescence,
admiring canoes ready
to negotiate my contours, bends;
chart ridges, and fathom pits;
hug gaunt ravines, purring streams.

Eyes roll up if a leaf is shed,
flowering sends thousand messages.
Autumn breeze seems a typhoon,
sweeps me off my feet,
blow away my fig leaf; I howl
at its heartlessness.

But the paradox unveils –
London Bridge is not falling down,
rather parting in the middle
for canoes to pass;
air throbs in anticipation,
adieu to nursery rhymes.

Hesitant plums hiding in foliage,
chewed green, chewed purple;
eyes half-shut, curious, unsure;
the season trickling down the lips,
‘be or not to be’ the plums hesitate
before the ready knife.

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