PAVEMENT STONES

Some newly laid

so newly laid you want to step around them,

and some wearied of feet

chewing gum, spit

and conversation remnant;

pavement stones know stories

know kicked-in-the-gut

insult;

are made of morning, noon and night

witness to all prosecution

innocent to the end

of a rope and sword-swing.

Yes, pavement stones

are drops of poetry

waiting to be flung at the oppressor,

didn’t you know?

[From the collection 'Stray kites on string-less days']

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