Thursday, February 9, 2012


Woke up with the sunrise
In Lucknow.
The paper and tea sellers
Call down the aisle.
A night of rest broken by the roar
Of snorers,
3 tier AC
Floating through India,
Surrounded by the smell
Of sweaty feet.
People brush against the curtain
Peek in to see;
Barge in searching for
The number of their seat,
Throw on the lights recklessly
While my baby tries to sleep.
In Lucknow our berth emptied out
I've come down from my perch,
To wish her sweet dreams.
Four more hours to journey,
But I'm much to tired to sleep.

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