The man was bent on his work, patching cycle tubes in the street corner,
A frown between his eyes and lips tightly pursed
The neem tree over him was in full bloom ,
Yellow flowers lay heaped nearby , brushed by the sweeper,
Their fragrance attracting a bevy of colourful butterflies
Vying for the abundant nectar ,within easy reach,
Henna swayed and sprinkled its flowers and scent from a nearby compound,
If only he was aware , how lucky he was to call that pocket of fragrance ,
In a polluted area his own!
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