Delhi

Look at us hiding on the roofs!

Atop hotels and restaurants lining
the square looking at
each other's blanched faces 
looking at
the street
below: 

souped crowds 
rickshaws and bikes
bellowing through the smoking
trash that I 
feel is all our fault

and the cows, just
eating it

beside the hawkers' 
cries, 

       a woman
in yellow, a glimmer
hair so neatly
plaited
is weaving in
the thick
throngs
and out
and out
finding no
one's eye 

especially
not mine
on the roof
watching.