I met an old lady at road side selling petty things.........she was taken there by the ruthless game of time.


An Old Lady

In the dusty corridor of a busy main road shop
When my dad parked his car beside
I saw an old woman sitting with the tired eyes
Hardly managing their heavy load
the scorcher's nuisance was enough to explore
Her first dealing with the hot rays
With the day long fatigue, apparent from her face
Very quietly all around her, she kept on stared
A big nice leather bag was hung on her shoulder
And the quivering hands had held a bucket
Subtle finesse in her looks, seemed tellers of her yesterday
The vulnerability for her state could be palpable
even for the callous
Spilling all filled glasses of my woes in heart
My tongue took the mind along and asked the lady
Why were her eyes singing the mourning songs?
Computer engineer---- my son is, dear girl!
A ruse of time had abducted him somewhere
To feed my two little grand girls
I've come at road from a pretty well abode
These little things, you see in the bucket,
I sell them for the empty stomachs.





Poetry by Amna Ehsan
Read 494 times
Written on 2008-07-02 at 12:42

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