There is a gentle dwarf neem tree, on the rise,beside the green thoughtful bench. Beside the dwarf neem is a child neem also rearing to go on the monsoon breeze.
The parrot-green bench has names writ on it. They are the ones who made them.They are the names the moss will cover making the bench greener .
We thought this morning of the cold white sepulcher ,from where Emily writes her eternal posthumous poetry . I am beauty’s nobody and you? She is asking from beneath her white marble.
I am beauty, a nobody
who died ,who are you?
Asks the poet to Truth
across sepulchral walls.
I am truth ,a nobody who
died, your former self.
Moss would slowly cover
their lips and names.
(reading Emily Dickinson’s poem I died for Beauty)