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A fall morning
Autumn …morning…colors galore Ever changing moods of nature Gray clouds…hanging low The sun sneaks a sleepy look Yawning through his puffy quilt Casting a beam in the distance
In its spotlight is the tiny lake Wild geese waddling around the brim Haystacks rolled in black polythene on cabbage patches smelling vile Little houses dot the horizon looking invitingly warm
Closer, here, lining the street are multihued trees Cold winds blow through their branches raining orange red leaves that collect in yellow brown heaps on the hard shoulders that pedestrians use *** The leaf-raker is here this morning in his wear worn jacket and fingerless gloves whistling tunelessly as he bends and straightens raking up the leaves into his rusty wheelbarrow Stopping to stretch when he’s almost done Till a sudden gale rustles up the leaves in a whirl, scatters them back on the ground His sigh is lost in the breeze He curses under his breath and begins again …
People walk past him Heads lowered against the wind snuggling into their upturned collars Not noticing this man…he doesn’t notice them either He’s lost in his toil, lost to the world Picking up the remnants of last spring
Swati Chandran
The Author has copyright © of the poems
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