He lay there unmoving; as still as the falling leaves <br />Around him drifting onto his weathered cheek. <br />The ground was hard, his legs were thin <br />His body wrapped in a dhoti that was clean. <br /> <br />How long had he starved, were his lips parched <br />A young man bent over him, said something <br />The old man didn't reply. <br />Was his village far away? Where were his children and why <br />Had he come here perhaps just to die? <br /> <br />Had he just decided to walk away? <br />Was his land parched, his crops rotten <br />His debts unpaid, his loans looming larger than life <br />Who could even presume to say? <br /> <br />He had laid his head down on a pillow of dust <br />He had lain down on a dusty pavement in an unknown town <br />Were there tears in his eyes, did he think of his wife <br />Who can even presume to say? <br />The next day the old man had vanished clean away <br />His place had been taken by a performing clown. <br /> <br />Copyright: Rani Turton<br /><br />Rani Turton<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/pillow-of-dust/
