Teazhy's Pen

First Sleep On A Street Bench  Two miles from  the boundary of Sango Otta city  beside the dusty street road a brown bench for three  sitting there for decades  what stories it must know how many people has it sheltered I trudge my stomach sings   life is a rock hard and unyeilding the dusk sun scorches like hell I have been walking for awhile now  gasping for air feet heavy dragging as my back bows The bench beckons  I press my thin buttocks    on its ruddy face relax my aching backbone   on its flat warm chest  while whispering to its ears  murmurs and strong sighs  the whistling winds     whirl around  tossing brown leaves in the air playful tugs my clothes musty scent smooching my nose  sweat lapping, drops down  from my forehead  I close my eyes, sigh softly. I tune into other sounds  at dusk in Sango Otta  Stomping feet marching...

Spring is in the air  flowers are blooming everywhere cool breeze is breathing life  to meadowlands  and Calla Lilies stand tall I peep out of my window  To see him passing   crinkled cheeks bowed and grubby like an orchid found in a desert I watch him clutch his rags  and shiver as springtime's rain drizzles  on his body as he hussles in the street. Summer crawls in like a millipede cuddling the chilly street with heat and foreheads crave for shelter I watch him cling to his tray  In midst of cars and two tyres  like a zombie with blurry shadow no umbrella,no shoes diving honks and horns with wet singlets Autumn saunters in through the front door  leaves are found dancing in the wind   I take a stroll around the street there he sit with empty bowls  and sagging hopes,  seeking for alms while autumn showers cover his body  dreams buried in evening mendicancy Winter sneaks in through the window and the...