By Ellie Duke
Naked feet and heads to ground
a geometric design leaves room for truth in prayer.
A tall dark staircase gives birth to eyes in search of the next step.
Cement hot as fiery coals, burns the soul as the pace quickens.
Cries for chipati fill the smog dense as desperation that enters
our lungs in deep heavy breaths.
Hidden in chaos is a hope for peace.
Spaubbling hands reach out for help
while women in a flurry of elegance bright pink as desire pass by.
Old women with tales told by wise wrinkles observe Delhi streets.
Like wondering mummies dogs leave questions of whether they are dead or
Are they breathing?
Children crippled by the hands of their fathers prove
human evil is passed down like a family name.
Toxic urine evaporates streets and
blue eyes are out numbered one to a million.