What I Miss Poem by Swati Ahuja

i miss coming home on a sulky summer afternoon
on a silent street where the only sound was of whispering eucalyptus trees
i miss the silent lonely street
i miss those trees under whose shelter
i had grown
which danced in rain as it drizzled
those long eucalyptus trees
threat to some
delight to thee
when the hot sun shown bright
and hot winds made my throat dry
i miss wearin that well plated skirt
when the sweat stained my shirt
when the load of school bag lowered my shoulders
i miss my black leather shoes brimmin with heat
inside burning my feet
with not the sight of any other soul around
it sometimes made my heart pound
but i walked my way back to home to the familiar place
where my mother waited for me to embrace
i miss the stone on the street
who was my companion on the solitary way
which i kicked everytime we meet
which rolled at my orders my treat
i miss that silent lonely street
which is now filled with sounds of forlorns
and horns of building roofs and cuttin stones
an atmosphere filled with dust and smoke
where dogs barked now people spoke
i miss the lonely way tonight
i miss coming home late that night
i miss that journey back home
when i was with myself alone