A Cup of Tea
Isaw her scampering away splattering dust with her tiny feet as
she hastened to catch the speeding bus.
Briskly she moved into the crowd,
with her eyes peeled for someone who'd buy
a cup of tea from her.
With her head raised towards HEAVEN
she casted a glance at the passengers barely seen through
half-opened windows.
She banged on the glass pane,
demanding an instant payment for
the cup of tea sold.
Another hand gripped a kettle spouting steam that
flashed every time she stood in that wintry beam.
I too asked for a cup of tea.
she stood on tip-toe and with her grimy hand
offered me the steaming cup.
This ephemeral acquaintance intrigued me
to behold her childhood slaughtered by
cruel civilised human hands.
ALAS! she didn't know her lost days
shall never travel back.
Copyright © Bishnu Bhusal | Year Posted 2006
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