An Old Lady and Her Milk Can
An old lady and her milk can breaks the dawn
Traversing the Topsy Turfy curves with muscles and brawn
Tired and hopeful she rests for a while at the crossroad
Moves to the town by carrying her load
Her shuddering hands with the tattered clothes tells a sad story
About the struggle and hardships to survive with the misery
What she delivers turns out to be nectar so enrich
Untold stories behind this deed to feed the rich
Down and out she walks back down to rustic
Who can understand her feelings so caustic?
Many responsibilities to shed on her shoulder
Arranging feeds and forages to keep on the udder.
Moves ahead gloating to forest with a scythe
Green grass and fodder nowhere in sight
Rapid industrialization made it barren and ungrazed
Misfortunes and miseries rolled in and fazed.
Thatched rooftops pouring out the rain
Another day wasted to clean and drain
Poor animal shivering with fever
Tired to lactate and unable to deliver
Whom to tell about this plight?
Busy with her challenges and the fight
An old lady with her milk can has an umpteen stories to tell
Still she walks miles and miles to serve this ambrosia and dwell.
Copyright © Arun Awasthy | Year Posted 2020
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