Unseen Crevices Poem by desamangalam ramakrishnan

Please don't come this way again:
here the footprints, of those
who reached and departed,
half dusted
half Withered
and swarmed by Worms.

There remains desolated a single tree:
its cognates, being unchained
from the green affection,
became doors tables Chairs
and the floor of ships.
Some of them transformed
to teapoys and dining tables
for serving hot tea and Chicken-fry.
Yet, somewhere in their unseen crevices
some eggs of butterflies were waiting
for some heat to break the shell,
to come out, to soar and hum-
likewise, me also waiting.

Still there remains desolated a single tree:
in this hot summer
there hang the bats slumbering,
as if the black skins
moulted by the Yesteryears.

From the crevices of that living tree
there arises the fog's vapour,
here I stand deeply inhaling it
and look forward to unknown distance.

Pray, don't come near
I am distancing myself,
this is not a time for nearness.
Hope for a better time,
until its coming
keep away ourselves
and be away from virus.

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