Pollution Ills

This poem draws its inspiration from William Wordsworth's evergreen poem 'Daffodils'. Needless to say, it comes nowhere close to the original one. I sauntered alone in the concrete jungle That has just replaced a lush green field; When all of a sudden, I saw a scene — An ocean of motor cars on the street. Beside the malls, beneath the billboards Honking and hooting endlessly. Continuous as the street lights that shine Regardless of whether night or day; Each one was fighting for right-of-way With others from the side lanes joining the fray. Nine hundred saw I at one glance And wondered if this was some prance. The autos behind them raced, too, but they Outdid the humble autos recklessly. A pedestrian could not but be vexed To be amidst such a noisy cacophony! I waited to cross, totally flummoxed What smog the traffic to the city had brought. For oft when on my bean bag I slouch, Glad to be away from the maddening strife I fret and cannot help but vouch That this is the curse of urban life! And then my mind with remorse fills And reflects on the pollution ills. Geeta Ashok