I spotted a termite hill sneaking,
from behind the almirah today.
A tiny trail of buff dust,
which was easily flicked away.
And the place was treated thus,
with some medicinal spray.
Then dusted and neatened up,
And made ready for display.
Yet behind that neatened wall,
untreated by that spray,
the worms went on and on,
nibbling and chipping away.
Grinding their teeth under the wood,
hollowing the fake display.
The termites went on nibbling,
ignoring the noxious spray.
I knocked on the wood to hear,
Fervently hoping that I may,
not hear the vacuous hollow,
behind the fixed display.
But the termites had been busy,
chipping the wood away.
Now, all that's left is the veneer,
bravely holding it in today.
