Dirt road


With first light in morning its scorching already

Streets are deserted and windows are closed

No birds chirping No barking dogs

Only peddler jeering for ice candies

Wiping sweat from his forehead

To walk further in furnace ahead

His voice is fading with every door

While crossing big buildings on shiny roads

He must have asked how this better than dirt road before

When Banyan trees were shed for passerby’s in mid summer noon.


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