An assault of cabbage leaves on the pavement
Tries vainly to cover up the manholes;
Splattered egg yolk on the serrated kerb:
Two men look from the window. Wind blows.
A young girl throws a loose bundle
Of waste material from the upper balcony –
The red one is an empty tea carton;
And anything spongy white, thin and long
Could be a woman’s sanitary napkin.
I said, maybe!
More winds; howlings; frightened cows scurrying.
Unseasonal winds might lead to Sandstorm.
SAND STORM! You must close that window now, dear friends!
The empty tea carton rises in the air.
The two men watch it pass by, silently –
Shall it reach the balcony? the gable? roof top?
They are n-o-w closing the window.
They have shut it at last! Never mind!
The tea carton fails to reach the roof top.
The wind smells of cabbage soup.
No howling. No face in the window.
They must’ve had a glimpse of the stray dog
Nibbling nervously at the stained sanitary napkin.
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