Tuesday, October 13, 2015

The Rag Picker


He silently walks the streets at night
With a slightly hunched back
And stops near every garbage pile
With his dirty old tattered sack

Potato peels he pushes aside
Dry flowers he does not need
He comes across a limp dry carrot
On which his child can feed

He sees some plastic bottles
And a couple of polythene bags
He quietly picks and stores them
Along with a few soiled rags

The street dogs bark and chase him
He flees so scared and lost
Until he comes to another dump
Where he once again quietly stops

This hunt goes on all night long
As he roams alleys and dumping sites
Calmly accepting his lifestyle
Along with his sorry state and plight

He remains on the periphery of our world
And struggles each night to survive
Forever remains unnoticed by all
Leading a rag picker’s life

© Copyright Renu Vyas