53) Traveler’s tenor

53) Traveler’s tenor
Through the dusty window I noticed,
A magnificent Banyan in
Brown, baked fields,
A green monolith in the midst
Of tiny wandering sheep.

A once forgotten melody
Blending with incessant noise,
Making a strange harmony,
Broken by traveling singers
Who sing for money.

Traveling time and again,
To return from the usual routine,
I looked up to reach,
An unfathomable horizon,
Dotted with trees trying to measure.

Strange signals where I stop,
Ponder on a forlorn thought,
Lights dim and darkness descends,
Occasional whistles pierce through,
Jilting the reflections of night.