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Bengali morning by Arik Mitra

 1. Bengali morning

A tram post dawn;

heavily rolls and clatters and breaks

Steel lines on tar. 

Broken stones

sticking out, cracking beneath the weight.

A noisy trail leaves back a silence

Beyond silence.

Unsounding newspaper flutters— 

sips of tea are heard street across;

Yawning shops,

Shutters stretching for a jog.

Sleepy bags walk themselves to fresh bazaar,

amul milk and bakery pound bread

In cyan packets of sparkling greasy light.

Pots belch indirect smoke

like wavy ray-spears of waking sun.


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