The three 'R's

In disdain I watched from the window of my office

A patch of grass being redone

On the little ground between

The tallest structures of bricks and mortar

And I questioned the existence of the

Slender palms, spread across a reasonable green 

It was a reassurance, to the ones like me

That there is the possibility of bloom

Even amidst the detached exchange of hellos and cold rubbing of shoulders

Or is there?

Or will there be the need to renew,

another patch of grass, as they threw

That burning cigarette, on its last leg

And pressed it under their shoe

Because that's what everything is reduced to

The three words - Reduce, Recycle and Reuse

That's what everything has reduced to.