The Street Lamp

I see cars whiz past. 
Children, men, old persons walk by.

I stand by through steely winter dawns, 
Bustling summer sunsets 
Autumn nights and chirpy spring noons.

While a chink of light 
Sneaks out through the curtains
From that building across the street, furtively 
As if reaching out to me. 

I bow down before the sun in the day.
But what good is a tree in winters?
While the moon and I sway in a duet 

And during a downpour, I meet myself 

In a puddle down there.