Time Has Its Hands on The Fire and The Frost by Kushal Poddar

The bird, I imagine,
Asks how long the bard’ll
Go on scrivening
About those stolen kisses he missed
As a young man.

From the street beneath
My veranda, a vagrant
Upturns his palms. Money?
No, he shows his scald.
Time has touched
Both the fire and the frost;
Does the man feel
The veins swelled with the pride
For his battle marks?

Almost spring, the bipolar wind
Inoculates two minds
I think with, and I think about
The bird of the morning
And the man without a home,
And those two minds fight
Against the starry starry night
And chasing crows inside.

Time feeds two serpents.
Some rumours of the summer
Lure you to open the curtains.
A flyer flies in. Don’t pick up.
I scream. We didn’t discover
Any vaccine for belief.


An author and a father, Kushal Poddar authored seven volumes of poetry. His works have been translated in ten languages. Find and follow him at amazon.com/author/kushalpoddar_thepoet and on Twitter at @Kushalpoe.

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