The Market

https://multimoonlight.in

It begins raining...

Some   smogs are arising.

The bloods stream from

The old woman and others;

Bodies are beaten by the rain.

I remember the chatting;

A while earlier of the blast.

In this market sit long time;

Been   selling   vegetables

Since   fifty years   ago.

I have become a rich now;

My son has been a doctor.

They scolded me recently

Not   to   go further   here.

Saw a man drawing up

An   unknown   object…..

Careless him, she continued;

I can’t leave this place;

Not for money and care;

But for time pass of my life.

That was the human beauty

As unseen echoing photograph.