Tender and shimmering,
The winter morning rains,
Sudden---fierce,
In Delhi,
Against a baby sun,
Smiling pale-faced,
In the grey sky,
Buffeted by the
Cold winds,
Rains, heavy
Rays, weak,
Blended well,
An impressionistic painting,
Made by divine hands,
And beating down,
Furious,
Upon the homeless,
Couple cowering,
Under the green plastic
Sheet held up,
By a pair of the
Quivering,
Gnarled hands,
On the manicured
Lawns of the imposing
India Gate;
Fancy cars
Glide by,
Oblivious to the
Presence of
Two doddering citizens
Of the Republic,
Huddled together,
In the gathering,
Slow mist.
