Poem: Near Cleopatra’s Door
By: Kousik Adhikari
For the last few days rain shut me indoor,
Lying on my ancestral bed that shrieks with every
Splash of body
I see the rain’s youth dancing
On roofs, leaves, street’s black face,
Water hissing, galloping the streets,
Frog’s singing at night
Like a would be bride, turmeric face
Waiting to be washed with rough hands,
It’s the water that shall tell you
How the frogs feel at night
And perhaps sleeping on your newly-cushioned bed
You will dream the frogs
Shrieking at night near Cleopatra’s door,
With their turmeric faces
Waiting and waiting to be washed with rough hands
Till the snakes bid her to sleep
Riding upon her happy breasts.