The Flower Vendor - Poem by Pankajam Kottarath
The thirteen year old flower vendor,
naïve as the flowers she sold
looks nascent like lilies
in her bamboo bin.
Speed of her fingers surpasses
perhaps that of our thoughts
and her Chennai slang Tamil
leaves a pungent feel, but sadly
poverty had her face acquired.
While blossoms scent her hair
smell of smiling lilies buries
the odour of her detergent-free clothes
but showy plastic smiles,
make her dull and crestfallen
like her unsold evening stocks.
Pangs of hunger stalking her body
she observes the fleeting freshness
of her perishing stocks.
Not the same with her, I wish
and in my thoughts she blooms big
with books rather than the bin.
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