An old bull strolls across
a childless old man
walks slowly
amidst the mango leaves
a mongrel peeps at them
leaves flutter as sunshine touches
but the road bears all pain.
The dust throbs with
the echo of the vesper call
the temple bell
contaminates a narrow religion
folding hands staple us together
but a shadow breaks us apart.
Golaka behari Acharya
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-road-53/
