The Train Passengers

The Train Passengers:
See how they sit!
Leisurely they relax.
On the windows they recline.
At the fast-moving scenery they mope.

An instinctive question emanates:
Is it the train moving, or the earth?
Inside others sit:
pondering about the journey...
ideas ruminating in the head.
Soon he lapses into slumber;
His unsteady trunk
jolting forward
and backward--
Half-asleep
Half-awake.

At this station
We stopped:
some embarked
others disembarked.

Hawkers canvass for sales:
"Akara", "Akwa"..."
...Nmai", "mmiri..."
"...Bread, this way..."

Anxious voices
Eager voices
Curious voices
Explode:
...My money..."
"...Thief...thief...thief..."
"My luggage..."
"Give me my money..."
"My bottle...throw...
"Throw...throw."

"Don't touch me
You dirty hag!"
"Move! This is not your house!"
He shifted and looked away;
He sat down and sighed,
An unhealthy silence prevailed.

He comes--a mendicant;
"Help a poor beggar
And God will bless you."
"...Thank you"
"God bless you;
May your journey
Be safe;
May you see good
In all your life."