Raj, The Optimist Poem by Santosh Bakaya

The trail of fleecy clouds made a pretty picture
As though, twelve or fifteen yards of material
Over hoops and hoops of muslin
Billowed and billowed with a joyous abandon.
Was it Scarlett O ‘Hara's night out?
The stars looked pallid, but shone like clichés worn -out.
Tired metaphors, ill-used, abused beyond redemption.

In a tiny corner of the pavement,
Huddled Raj, a tired metaphor, cuddling his dreams,
cocking a snook at the awry and muddled world.

Morning came, dahlias and petunias, zinnias too
Pansies and a sunflowers few, knuckled away
the languor of last night, to burn bright.
The tiny human chunk, yanked open his eyes,
and his dreams shamefacedly slunk away.
But with a vigor new, he slung his sack over his shoulder
and followed the every morning cue.
A song on his parched lips, onwards he marched
Bent over the garbage bin, as folks, crisp and starched
Ran the rodent -derby.

This tiny rat scavenged on, ignoring the obscene din.
Rummaging for splinters of his dreams in the garbage bin.