The Poor Ass (Animal Poem) Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The ass I do not see him
Standing near the washer man's house
Not even near he washing ghat,
Going slowly, returning back from
With a bundle of clothing on its saddled back.

There was a time
When I used to see it coming and going
And standing near, lying in wait,
Taking fodder and straw

But again there came a time
When washing machines and laundries
Took the employment from, made it jobless
And the poor ass found it deserted by the master, left behind
With work or job to do, dying in harness.