" If wishes were horses"

She ran past me,
Everyday
I see those colourful dresses,
bright red, orange and blue,
on the pavements,
a little after 8.

Buyers keep looking
to get the best
for the night,
measuring everything
without a measure.

They had a guest today
who joined them,
on their walk.
A wicked grin on one.
I saw her run.

The saree was risen
up to her knee
A sight of pleasure
for a vouyeur passing by.
The Pallu fell
like it does everyday.
But today they moved for
a different reason.

The man in Khakhi followed
trying to match the pace,
restrained,
by the bulging potbelly.
She ran past me.
His grin told it all.
She ran and ran.

The buyers looked.
It was entertainment,
as always.
The grin turned
into a laugh.

I kept looking
She ran past me
like a horse
and he followed
enjoying the chase.