The street yawns a new day
Pouring soot that smells of hope
As it slithers and wakes slowly
To grimy walls and early morning smoke.
We stretch in slanted morning sun,
Hanging freshly washed dreams on clothesline
Peeping just above meshed wires, neon signs
And kiosks selling fortunes for a dime.
The groggy flight down the stairs
To pick milk, news and the bread
Is greeted with swirling eddies
Of dust, scrap & stench instead.
Amidst morning tea stall stoves,
Mendicants & gaping passageways –
Life draped in diesel fume
Is a Hobson’s choice, a shifting sand dune.
© Dan Husain
March 9, 2005
7 comments:
a beautiful way to welcome the new year.
happy new year.
Lovely poem, Dan. And a very happy new year to you too!
you literally made my jaw drop...a perfect pean to the new year!
This doesn't give me a sense of dread or hope. It is what it is, a description of life through the eyes of the writer, which makes it so real.
Well executed, Dan.
Ooooo! Esp. like the second stanza.
nice as always...happy new year,Dan!
i'm linking to ur blog...hope u dun mind...
What a fabulous poem: it flows so well, the lines tumble onto each other, which can be hard to do with rhyme. But you got it.
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