from early dawn-
Motorbikes burn rubber
down narrow lanes
teeming with transport,
vie with bursts of loud exhaust fumes.
Drivers honk maliciously-
Yes, I see your distorted faces
hurling abuses at the passersby –
or the neglected helpless strays,
that yelp in unwanted pain,
the clamour continues.
Let me hear
the chimes of a distant chapel,
the call to prayers,
the tinkling of bells at the temple.
Let me read
my book in peace,
perchance later, be induced to sleep?
JMT 14 February 2021