You began feeding them,
thrice a day at first,
and they had their wilderness,
tiny nails, teeth more or less.
Once a day then. Boredom
caught the morning sun.
The flooded streets laid eggs of dry patch.
Sam’s mom complained
about the animals living in your yard.
You began fading,
and they did not comprehend
the magic that spells waning away.
As if to be God one must
appear to disappear, build
someone’s fortune and draw a circle of fate.
They begged, meowed,
crawled and leapt inside your house.
You shooed them, told them
not to make love or even if they did
not to birth rights.
And one day you found kittens,
eyes still unopened,
under your bed, your old shirt
forging their camp.
They cheered at you, wondered
why you would not wave happy hands,
after all you gave them once,
but because you gave you can take as well.
You started a fence around you,
in your house, on your bed.
Kushal Poddar presently lives in Kolkata and edited the online magazine ‘Words Surfacing’ and authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’ (Spare Change Press, Ohio), “A Place For Your Ghost Animals” (Ripple Effect Publishing, Colorado Springs), “Understanding The Neighborhood” (BRP, Australia), “Scratches Within (Florida, USA)” and “Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems(BRP, Australia)”.