Jagannath rao Adukuri


The frog


With hot spring-rolls we plunked into chairs
To watch waves after waves of silver rain
As the night deepened frogs croaked in unison
From shallow puddles on the edge of the road.


She looked at me as if I was a slimy toad some way
Connected to the throaty frogs from the puddles
The towel on her bunned hair came off suddenly
Between me and her was this inky curtain of darkness.
Her lips curled and twisted in pretended anger
Where were the little flakes of snowy promises
That glistened on my hair in the afternoon sun?


The little flakes melted in streamlets of airy nothing
And formed pearl-drops on the frog-back of carnality.
At the dead of the night the frogs stopped croaking
Readying to sleep for the night and I dared not
Look at her forehead where lay my innermost secrets.

Submitted: Thursday, December 04, 2008

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