Plunder Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

Plunder

In green cover, she is a mother with greyish lines
Many stripes
Stands firm still, unless with the wind
Each of her arms, look god- Krishna’s
Rich, bent, folding, in arms is holding
Child, and child, and child…

Weakened in damp day, she has no breath
A child, two and more, have left, are fallen
I feel and go mad, with her empathize
Take a child and bite.

In flesh of kid, see the worm crawl
“What happened, what caused? ”
I don’t realize.

Apples are green, I gather and take
Is it plunder?