Palm Trees

THE TREE OF LOVE

SEPTEMBER 10, 2020

BY ANSH CHAUHAN


This year I found myself under a tree

which grew poetry.

I watered it with my tears,

My ink, a fertilizer. 

I was a troubling virus,

Her words were sanitizer.

I cried day and night ,

An erosion of all my strength.

We were colours which unfortunately,

Couldn't blend.

I decided to go on.

It was raining that day,

People complained -

'The rainwater is salty.'

I answered-

The rain met my tears.