An Old Shield in a City
Masoyo HAS *
Doors closed, windows shut, the city is asleep,
each house is dimly lit, protected by an old man,
he stands beside the huge iron gate,
disshevelled shirt, his pants are old and worn out,
he keeps guard, a rifle hangs on his lean shoulder.
I wonder if he has a wife to go back to,
share his life's night stories, a woman he lives for,
who smoothens the wrinkles off his clothes,
sees him off with a kiss at every dust
and till dawn, waits wide awake for him to return,
and throw his arms around her,
place his heavy head on her bosom,
and silence the tides in his heart.
Or I wonder, the wooden box at the gate,
if that is his home?
When the lights shine brighter and the crimson Sun retires
behind the city walls and the brick buildings,
he stands guard, boys and girls are safe in their cocoon,
fragile and aging night after night,
the rifle weighs heavier on his fading strength, yet he is the guardian angel.
Who is his angel, I wonder!
* Poem written by Masoyo HAS for e-pao.net
The poet is currently at Delhi University and a a native of Manipur from Ukhrul district and can be reached at masoyohas27(at)gmail(dot)com
This poem was webcasted on July 25 2014.
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