A PHOTOGRAPH IN
THE WOODS
-
Gopikrishnan
Kottoor (India)
When I locked my house
Preparing for a stroll,
I paused and told myself,
Let me take the other
Road today. The road
Less taken.
All about me
Lay the auburn leaves that fell,
As more and more kept falling.
That afternoon I remember
Was all leaf-rain.
Bathed in falling leaves
I walked on
Until I came upon an old oak tree.
All around me
The small acorns fell
Knocking on their tiny dead clown-heads
As though they meant
The fall of life-
And all that was there left
Was a dry weeping.
I took a deep breath,
The sun, a wet afternoon bird among the tall branches,
And was about to leave
When below,
Among the roots that had grown thick
Among a mound of fallen oak leaves
I saw a smile.
Soon a breeze blew uncovering the leaves
And there she was-
Almost a Madonna in that photo frame
One perhaps wonderful for someone
A long time ago;
The polka dots upon her youthful dress still innumerable
Where the ants moved all over
In endless directions.
It was such a smile
In which I too mirrored upon the dusty glass,
Her face a caked beauty
Where birthday candles would no more burn;
A treasure
None needed anymore
To press close to the heart
Or pin flowers
By a beloved home door;
And here,
By blowing leaf, rain, and winter
In stippled darkness
Of the rolling thunder
Among the rustling oak leaves,
Was life’s true home.
****