The Flower Seller



At dawn she paced a thousand steps
Gathering pinks, yellows and roses.
With skilled practice she laced
All whites close and tidy.

In baskets of dried jute
She laid the bananas spaced.
With coconuts fresh and cleaned
She made the offering speak.

In the morning chill, she placed it all
Staring at infrequent nods.
Few stopped, few passed by. But she remained
Gazing to earn her day.