Old man

There is an old coconut tree in the village 
It bends over 45 degrees 
Like an old man with one hand on his back 
The other wiping eyes 

Once this coconut tree 
was young
Giving milk to drink 
Easy to climb all the way 
Swaying to and fro 

Now in the western sun 
Not much fruit left 
Only an empty frond 
In an empty sky 
That has forgotten all 
but the rain