i stood beside the small shed
in front of the busy street
teeming with anxious faces
i stood and watched their
low whisperings and high pitched laughter
as they worried about
when the task force will come
to uproot their shacks and counters
i sensed their anxiety
and their plans to flee
and come back again
or fight and may be never go back
and never come back
i stood there till it was night
and the darkness hid the voices
and I wonder, what if the men were trees?
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