The Scavenger Woman Poem by Bijay Kant Dubey

When I used to see her
Passing the red soiled way
At midday
When the sun used to shine
As a fireball,
She used to go
By her way
With a can of human excreta
On a wheelbarrow
And she drawing the cart,
Pushing or pulling it
To throw into the garbage heap,
To dump it,
Sometimes taking a rest
Under the shade of the tree,
Sometimes labouring to pull
And in sweat
With the blouse almost wet with
Bearing the brunt of heat and dust,
The scorching sun of summer
And perspiration.

N.B. The title too is a part of the poem, hence, start it from there.