The agiary trees

In the stillness of/ A summer afternoon/ The white washed walls/ Of the fire temple/ Gleam bright/ Against the green/ Of the tamarind and/ The jackfruit trees.   Ripe, luscious/ With pregnant bulge,/ Lemon-green to olive/ The jackfruit hangs/ From slender branch/ Defying the laws of gravity.   It should have fallen by now/ It should have been/ Brought down last month./ It’s bound to fall, any day,/ Any moment./ ’twill fall on someone’s head./ Horrible thought!/ Instant death./ What a waste!/ Of what?/ Why worry!/ What has to happen will./ But the birds will have/ Pecked the fruit rotten! And oh! Look at the/......

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