Hometowns and homes

It’s ages since I’ve been to that teashop

and I haven’t gone back down that straight lane

where cobblers used to sit by the bus stop

though I’ve thought often I must go back again,

see myself if the lamppost with the dent

is the same still? wires sagging drunkenly;

if the same old cracks split up the pavement

made wider perhaps by that jamun tree.

We played barefoot, we rarely had shoes on

and had no business with the shoeshine guy.

I wonder if new hopscotch lines get drawn

and if the shop still serves our spiced up chai?

But what if the jamun has been cut down? -

tough that homes don’t always stay in hometowns.