A Lost Song

The sun came out and woke the sleeping tree. 

It rose tall, stretching out its limbs and leaves 

Stirring all the creatures, birds, bugs and bees. 

But who would have thought the tree would fall victim to thieves? 

The tree harbored many sounds. 

From the cicada’s quiet chirp 

To the patter of a squirrel, wandering around. 

But just around the curb, 

Disturbing the harmony of the lively oak 

One slash was all it took

To steal the rhythm of the woodpecker’s tap and the raven’s croak

Leaving only the metallic scrape of the blade’s hook.

Now the sun is setting only to a stump of a tree

No longer playing the tune of the birds, bugs, and bees.

Arya Kumar ‘23