An old blind woman weaving a basket

April 5, 2018 § Leave a comment

An old blind woman was weaving a basket by the roadside
The plastic wires were of many a hue
Red, and green in unfinished plan
Intertwined in complex patterns with blue
I was passing by in an air conditioned car
she, was conditioned to the hot summer air shimmering like an evil djinni
Over the dusty wheel-trodden hot tar
The wires springing in chaotic fountain from the unfinished basket
Pierced my soul in a zillion places
I felt nothing as my own tar-like essence just oozed and continued on around them
The signal changed and back to the road we drivers turned our faces
The old blind woman, she went on weaving her basket, each knot a face in the car, each loop an indifferent soul
She wove us all in, but we kept on driving we kept on driving

#poetry #poems

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