11/27/17

New | Poetry | Ramu Ramanathan

My First Encounter With The Peacock


The peacock,
He comes,
Knocks at the window
I am gazing out of.

Asks me what I am seeing.
I say a talking peacock.
The peacock smiles and asks for beedies.

I don’t have a pack here,
My wife has it, and
She has gone to the movies.
The displeased peacock
Stamps the ground.

Wait,
Don’t be angry.
I have some potato salad in the fridge.
He says, okay.

I whistle a song
In the orange of the sky.
He eats my dinner.

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