The sugarcane vendor

M Minakshi Devi
Stood the Sugarcane vendor Lambu
Frail and tall,with his striking blue wheel cart.
Lacquering brightly under the Sun
Migrating upon the straight narrow lanes,
Ahead Lamphel Cathedral or under the flaming Gulmohar,
Crossing lawns in tiny towns and door of Catholic Churches.
Cherishing thirsty throats for years
Balming every bone weary souls in this foreign soil.
His social warmth and existing friendliness
Linger throughout the year.
In the myriad Summer May or the frosty December.
He is there standing, to trade the sweetest dulcet,
With an amiable smile and an outlandish humour.
Moving slowly along with short halts,
Sagacious enough to please any potential buyer.
Many oblivious that he now triumphantly,
Stands upon a pinnacle and the scorn of his
triumph
After years of toiling in this foreign soil.