Poetry

Reuters photo

By

Rahul Mall

Hacked Invitations

We dig a pond in the backyard,

Birds migrate in these months

Nesting on beds meant to dry.

Cuckoos never turned up on my porch

The front decked by woodpeckers.

An invitation hacked.

Congress in my head blows a silent whistle;

In every dinner conversation

The parsimonious make generous notes;

By manners, my mother corrects me.

Ill-educated in the art of gluttony

I restrict to their platter of exhuming stodginess.

Pecking me, a hole in my pocket

Segments on clock well spent

An interesting page in their dairy.

The seasons are changing ,

And soon they shall take flight,

Eggs of guilt and deeds left behind.

Rahul Mall

Rahul Mall is a passionate poet, writer and an artist who hails from the Kathmandu Valley, capital of Nepal. Currently residing in Kolkata, India he has recently completed his Bachelors in Commerce.He believes that a paintbrush and a pen are the greatest weapons known to mankind.