NOVEMBER RAINS: DAY 18, WILLIAMSJI MAVELI WRITES, THE STREET LIGHT

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• NOVEMBER RAINS: DAY18
• BY
• WILLIAMSJI MAVELI
• THE STREET LIGHT

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The Red street light looks only at a dirty night girl,
Peeping on their beauty; lipsticks; colored eye brows.
The cafeteria opens; decorates early mornings,
Exhibiting yesterday’s eatables; bread and jam
in front of the hungry child, begging for it’s half.
The Street water-pipe bursts to see a dried up,
throat slaking thirst, unable to capture a single drop.
Forest sees a fire, where animals, being burned alive,
The city hunts for a killer man; unarmored; unhurt;
The left eye lid, half open, but its light slapped away,
Someone says that there is only one eye left out;
And even that itself is not to see others, but himself!

BY

WILLIAMSJI MAVELI