A Lost, But Not Lost Cat

A cat, gray or of some 
vaguely different coat, lost,
but not quite so, 
slanted perchance, askew with 
the memory map
where X marks the safe place
between the bricks and glass,
pots and plants, dry yard
and moist basement,
rubs its presence 
against my trouser legs.

As long as I don’t look down
it exists and it doesn’t.

The wind plays with the cat’s 
perception of the past.
What’s the colour of the house 
or its shape? Is it on the right? Left?
Does the owner wear glasses?
Does he have eyes at all?
Do his hairs rise as well 
like this stranger’s when 
the feline presses its body 
against his flesh?




Kushal Poddar
Words & Picture


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