TREE

The night silent of traffic
A dust dry silent night
But for the howling anger of a man

A solitary voice

Against the violence of sleeping men
Against the blood drowsy mosquitos
Against a city silent of traffic
Of slums slumbering their stomachs rumbling
And commerce and the street hawkers
Sweaty mission priests and dormitory orphans
Even the imam and the raw red cocks are silent
The police are not disturbed
They do not come to silence him
And tough tired hired girls heel in hand
Tiptoe home exhausted
They too are deaf to his wanton screams
His screams are His wants
And no one cares

Then the first delivery trucks turn
A rusty corner ladened
And he is silenced by the City waking
Minaret calling computer oven firing
The noxious burn of tannery horns and hooves
As the machine of human desire
Once more lurches automatically
In involuntary unison

A solitary city tree

I sink my feet deep in the earth
Let others reach for star and sky
I am made of more humble worth
I give him shade and keep him dry
Bereft he sleeps beneath my bough