This Tree Poem by Nassy Fesharaki

This tree

This tree, doubtlessly
Is from India;
South, Madras, Kerala.

The colour of skin
The bangles that she wears
Take me deep into time;
Feel I am at the bar
Inside old restaurant.

Women dance on stage
While me and my friends
Are close with the sight
Of dancers, their motions.

With bare feet wear anklets;
Dresses are simple
Exposing toes and nails;
Every part speaks of
The shanties and houses
That have had no bread,
Causing their departure…

The girls come here to
Dance and sell their bodies…

The womb with poverty
Kills the law and belief.

Now, I am with tree
Raindrops mirroring...

They hang on branches
As if girls with bangles;
And sound of anklets…

I look, am focusing;
Ignore the ambient…

Wonder if this tree
Speaks girls' language! ?