Lichens
Little feet join the line
of those leaving
their sky and earth.
As roofs roll into debris
one after another
that we do nothing
is what they will remember.
The rocks we hide under
will be their homes.
They will still smile
the miniature rivers
will hold on to their hues.
We will see them everywhere
and they will remember
who put them on the rock.
They will line the sidewalks
of our health treks.
In their thallus
will be escape stories.
They will pair up
shoulder to shoulder.
There will be mosaics
boulder to boulder.
Remember they lived
they lived a war
those who made it.
They will live
with memories
who didn’t.
Lichens . . .
rootless children of war.
They will grow
on you and me.
- © Daya Bhat 2022
Daya Bhat has published two books of poetry. Her free verse, short poetry and short fiction appear in a number of journals. She lives in Bangalore, India with her family.
No comments:
Post a Comment