From the Alcove
As I peep through my window
From the alcove,
A theater starts its never ending show
From dawn to dusk
Of street goers,
Pedestrians heading towards their work,
Some striding some slithering unwillingly,
Now a street urchin, bare feet strolls
Scavenging for a trinket or food,
Women of all ages walking
In the sweltering heat of summer
To add to the frugal income,
A guard with an untucked shirt
Relieved from his nocturnal shift
Going towards his home and family,
Across the road, a motel billows smoke,
The hubbub of customers and
The smell of fresh bread from the tandoor
Permeates the air,
The yellow carpeted path by the golden shower tree,
A tinker carrying his heavy sack
Hoping to be called by
The sleeping dwellers of bungalows,
Now a rickshaw makes u-turn
To the call of a distant passenger,
An addict lying motionless on the roadway
Oblivious of the hot sun and
The loud honking of speedy cars
But the old man with a wrinkled face
And callous hands and his push cart of dates
Is missing, I wonder why.
***
Author Bio: Naushena
Bio: Poetry writing is Naushena’s passion through which she expresses her feelings and emotions. She also writes essays sporadically and her work covers a wide range of topics from the themes of society in general to human experiences. She has been published in Five Poetry, The Black Lion Journal, Scarlet Leaf Review 8- West Press, Mad Swirl, Boston Literary Magazine, Mamalode, Mothers Always Write, EXPOUND , Digging Through the Fat and Lummox Journal.