from Pixabay
Spade, A Spade
Never been a people reader
and today, I am no better.
The cloud, now a face,
and now a short shower
to mud, blinks with the rays.
I open the sketchbook
and try to replicate the drawing
of a spade that made
a ten years old me proud,
and all my lines wriggle like
the worms beneath a flower bed.
The Profile Photo Has Expired
"You look so depressed."
They say.
The med
must have died
in my cabinet.
If I smile
a hoary feline will lift its face.
A mouse's intestine still hangs
from the corner of its mouth.
Bio -
An author and a father, Kushal Poddar, works as a journalist. He authored eight books and has been translated into eleven languages across the globe.
Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe
Find and follow him at amazon.com/author/kushalpoddar_thepoet
Fevers of the Mind 