SURESH RAMPHUL

On a grey cloudy day
From nowhere
A gust arrives and thrashes
And slashes
A yellow bamboo plant
Like a whip
Bending it and twisting it
And forcing it to curl
With the agony of a boxer
Pitilessly punched in the face.

Awkwardly
The yellow bamboo plant
Twirls and rotates
In a macabre dance.

For one moment you think
It’s grunting and groaning
And swooning to the ground.
But
Though
Battered and bruised

It holds good
Trusting in its roots
No matter what.

When comes the sunshine
It raises its head
Little by little
And straightens its back
On wobbly legs
Like a fallen gazelle
Shaken and stunned
After escaping the clutches
Of an angry leopard.

Ultimately
It’s steady and upright
As before.