Passing By
The summer street
Stirs at dusk
With pedestrians
Young rambunctious crowd
Talking whispering and laughing loud
Some walking solo
Glued to shiny screens
A few zen monks
Walked with measured steps
Their AirPods drilling death metal
Into their skulls
A few old ladies in groups
Perched on low walls
Compared ailments
And sleepless nights
Yet when they talked of their bygone days
Brightness shone through their eyes
Not one observed
The beautiful twilight
Nor the stars
That fought valiantly
With bright street lights
And there on the bench
Of a deserted bus stop
A street dog curled onto itself
Stretched and yawned
Observing every individual
Passing by
© Shashikant Dudhgaonkar
