The Hollow, The Fillings (First Published In I Am No Silent Poet) Poem by poddar kushal

1

Shiver by shiver
the beast dies, and
the beast rises, and
the beast pries open
the doors of my town,
preys on those things we
have, those we do not.
The shadows of
the turrets remain-
the bricks, stones, cements
all gone bit by bit.
So the beast dies lean,
sniffing the sands,
stuffing grains inside
its hunger. It was no game.

2
We listen to the nothing
happening today. Wind makes
faces against the canvas
hung to cover the space
taken away by the bombers.