I observe a bat shorten
the radius of its flight loop.
Each turn brings it nearer
to the centre. There,
the predator preys on
something silver and disappears
with that sliver of light.
The pond sighs and sleeps.
I sweep the moon off our
window sill thinking it to be
your clipped nail. You whisper,
“Did you take your OCD medicine?”
I didn’t because tonight we
will join the vigil. Tonight we’ll
occupy the red road. The girls sprawled
in the vacant plot behind
paint some posters and edit an old slogan.
I call our son. He says
that he gathers the bullet shells
from the classroom, a
full-fledged career now.
I cannot hear him because
of a blazing aircraft.
We must march far,
farther than the red road,
further than the slogans.
.
Kushal Poddar
Picture Nick Victor
Kushal Poddar lives in Kolkata, India
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