At times
When the time canvas
On which I sketch the times
Is torn between
The time at which I planted
The first coconut tree
And the next one
That should have been planted…
And hangs loose,
Then I scatter seeds
From past crops
Of the coconut tree
And spray them
With syllabary stored
From the time of first
planting.
Then the canvas gets tight
And steady
And resists the wear and tear
Of fading
Time.
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