His trunk shivered
and the wise snatched
away the mangoes,

He did forget the fact
of being a mere summer.

Then the fronds,
once positive, followed

The reason behind:
His summer turned
experimental autumn.

Did he realise his bare winter?
How could he?

He still had helping hands
some call withered boughs.

All the more reason
to be optimistic.

They stayed in his adamancy
for a Spring.

The illusion soon flowed
in the monsoon.


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