Watchman Poem by Ajit Das

The night deepens;
street lights glint like eerie lamps
in the thickening dark.
Silence dissolves all echoes
of sound, excepting the footfalls
of the night watchman.

Beating his stick
on the deserted roads,
blowing his whistle at intervals
he sends out the message
of presence of an eternal guard
against evil stalking,
while sleep descends all around.

Somewhere in a small house
close to a blind lane
a pair of eyes will keep wide open
till he trudges back
after his night rounds.