Black Poem by Devendra Rai

Hanging from a night-tree, with leaves
Concealed in the night's enormous dark shadow,
I remember, about the fruits it is―
Fruits unripe green and some ripe―ripe yellow.

"Pick me some of those, (please) ",
Said he, pointing out through the window
At the fruits, and this I did notice:
What strange way them in the night did glow.

I plucked some, and did so with ease;
Some green, but more of those yellow
Until it so happened to my dismay (and his) :
A swarm of bees darted at me from the tree's hollow.

My face with a mask I saved from the bees
But it put to jeopardy my vision so―
The whereabouts of mine and the tree's
Faded to black, and nothing else did show.

As fright and desperation my senses did seize,
I stumbled across front yards and over hedges and row.
Wanting to be home again, like a child screams,
I screamed―and not screaming literally though.

"Who else with a mask at night but thieves
Stalks the village", the voices said, "Lo! "
And with muted footsteps and whispering lips,
The villagers pounced on me, not to let go.

I believe 'cause of the fruits it is―
This predicament upon me had fallen, oh!
Wanting to be home again, like a child screams,
I screamed―and not screaming literally though.