Short Poem: The woman on the train

The woman on the train

Worn off hair clip,
rugged handbag
hanging by the shoulder.
A clock ticking on the wrist.
Eyes wandering away,
towards the crowded faces.
Thoughts taking over
as if pleading a stranger;
to bestow some kindness,
perhaps, offer a seat.
Wrinkled skin, weary eyes,
but never a tired soul.
As if forever toiling
for bettering the lives,
of those around her.
A mother, is who I think she was.

Bhakti G © 2019

---

- Dedicated to thousands of elderly women who continue working tirelessly for their family, inspite of the old age. This is inspired by one such woman I came across on a Mumbai local train.