by Apu Mondal

Like the grass that grows
At the feet of the trees
Is our childhood, enough
Shade and shine,
And just the right rainfall,
And the cool breeze in
Summer and hibernation
Inside the earth roots
In Winter,
And when a bit higher,
Nipped and cropped so
Nicely by the cattle,
So we can regrow without
Regrets,
In the warm lap of earth.