A Poor Man's Lot
There besides the trunk of a leafless tree
Lies a human figure in beastly nudity.
It's breathing yet; it's not dead
But no one bothers, for them it is dead
It's dusty day, it's scorching hot
And this misery is poor man's lot.
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
It mas in June 1960, on a very hot day, when on seeing a person in tatters lying by the side of a tree that some thoughts came to my mind. But by the time I could find place to sit down & write down I could recollect only these 6 lines, even though fairly long composition had formed in my mind.