The groaning wind was blowing with all those terrible messages
Soon the cloudy yellow evening became unbearable.
In front of the building, touching the sky
The vendor stopped for a while,
His childish whim flashed for a moment,
Those forgotten dreams of a vendor.
“The sky, the changing sky,
How it holds all the ancient properties” he gazed.
“Perhaps because it doesn’t bear life like me”
Suddenly roaming eyes stopped at the corner of the street,
Two lives full of colour, unnoticed, unseen,
Evergreen leaves laughed at the curls swaying in the gust,
The dusty curls reminded him of his mother.
“A life, a life in this stony world”,
A squirrel with all it’s funny movements
Trying to bring life to the curls,
Drops began to fall…
The air filled with chirruping and twirling,
The wavy branches provided home
For each individual coming and going,
The evergreen one had nothing except the arrogant smile,
But hadn’t noticed it’s dusty leaves losing beauty…
“Oh mother, it’s time for another new journey, “
And the vendor proceeded…..
The poem was first published in Eclectic (June 2010) issue