The Agra Poem by Zubyre Parvez

The restruant was named Agra
After the temple in India
Her father opened some years ago
The decor had not changed
And the repairs were carried out
By her father; something of a carpenter
Using old wood again
The same melancholy music
Played again telling of her
Father's lamentful way
Hammers and strings of the piano
She did not want to change
Living in her father's shade
Running the restaurant
The ambient lighting
Seemed to be his slow squint
Through the nostalgia
For the old man his way
She worked not far from home
Her father an immigrant from
Bangladesh, who stuck to his ways
How could she see any developments
If taking on the deep old rut
The paintings depicted The Agra
Fishnets of old men cast
Along the river of time
It's been so long since
She has seen change
She worked not far from home.