The Crows Are Crowing And Trying To Lift From The Aluminium Bowls Of Hungry Village Children Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

The crows crowing,
Black-black crows cawing
Into the hungry country,
Poverty-stricken,
Half-fed, half-clothed,
Illiterate and uneducated,
Backward and poor,
Mud-built, straw-thatched
With the sun falling on them directly,
No respite from
Heat and dust
And temperature
And against the backdrop of it,
A small child weeping,
Crying for the stale crumbs of bread
And taking it at dawn break
From the aluminium bowl,
But the crow too eyeing it
To catch and run away.