Peddling Jasmine Poem by Uma nair

PEDDLING JASMINES

I come from the slum
With jasmine,
Fragrant garlands,
Threaded quickly
Without leaves,
For long, black Indian hair.

I carry them
From car to car,
And cry them
Down hot windows.
Rolled up
Behind cool air
While my wilting flowers,
Dry in the dust of streets
No one looks
Everyone has short hair.

That night
I passed an open auto
Of a white woman
Who pressed smiles
And a paper note
Into my thin hands

She took all
Put it to her ears..
Speechless I stood
For under her dupatta
She had no hair
The light turned green
My flowers nestled
Between white ears and lips.

Uma Nair..
2016