Pollution Ills Poem by Gita Ashok

This poem draws its inspiration from William Wordsworth's evergreen poem 'Daffodils'. Needless to say, it comes nowhere close to the original one.

I sauntered alone in the concrete jungle
That has just replaced a lush green field;
When all of a sudden, I saw a scene —
An ocean of motor cars on the street.
Beside the malls, beneath the billboards
Honking and hooting endlessly.

Continuous as the street lights that shine
Regardless of whether night or day;
Each one was fighting for right-of-way
With others from the side lanes joining the fray.

Nine hundred saw I at one glance
And wondered if this was some prance.
The autos behind them raced, too, but they
Outdid the humble autos recklessly.

A pedestrian could not but be vexed
To be amidst such a noisy cacophony!
I waited to cross, totally flummoxed
What smog the traffic to the city had brought.

For oft when on my bean bag I slouch,
Glad to be away from the maddening strife
I fret and cannot help but vouch
That this is the curse of urban life!
And then my mind with remorse fills
And reflects on the pollution ills.

Geeta Ashok