THE AROMA OF FRESH MILK …… (A POEM)

The aroma of fresh milk as cows are milked,

The woman graveolent of cow shed and hay,

Wood smoke rising from homes curling,

Swirling with the growing morning mist

Ere burgeoning to fog to shroud the earth;

Jasmine and Champak contending futilely

With stink of garbage uncleared for days!

All early morning smells at 5.30 A.M

As I step out to walk to the park

In half darkness, sidestepping dogs and dung,

Peering to make out outlines of obstructions,

Wondering when this beautiful garden city

Has turned into nothing better than a village

With all its attendant suburban features!