The Custodian

The Custodian

The gnarled old tree
stood watch over
the ancient land.

It had withstood
many seasons of sun
rain and winter chill.

Generations of birds
had sheltered in its
strong, welcoming boughs.

It watched
as a bulldozer moved in
to clear the ground.

Its branches trembled
till the earth beneath
was covered with dewy leaves.

“Stop!”, said a voice
this is where
I will build my tree house.
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Rekha Ambegaokar
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