An array of shops slept on each side pull-
ing a lonely brownish sheet over the street.
He slowly stirred from his sleep pull-
ing the rag from his disheveled outfit,
making a move in the early morning ennui-
A dark line outlined the all brownish-
street’s contours and he was more brownish,
he sat up on the step, nothing reflected
in his weary eyes, dry and blank, lips parched.
The sand road like an illusion of his lips
looked high onto sky, yearning.
He got up wearily and looked all-around:
his wrinkled face, tattered hair, thin limbs
Making deeper contours outdid the all brown tint
He walked on slowly, the road stretched carelessly
He walked on aimless as a dark spot disappearing.
Golden rays of morning slowly started its vibrant strokes.