What Do I Do With This Day Poem by Gopikrishnan Kottoor

I look out into the dark,
parting the rain like a curtain,
with my sleepy eyes.
Out in the street,
A slow mutt is looking for a little place among the faraway cairns to shelter itself;
Hoping a loving hand will take it to some place it could call a home, where there will be chicken heads aplenty.
How soon the rain becomes a river, flooding sleeping hearts,
sweeping them to death,
past the little loveliness
of flowers.

What do I do with this day,
beginning like a page, half read, closed, opened again,
what do I do now,
to tear apart all those words?
I guess tonight, that little mutt
going away, not knowing where, seeking a home all its life,
will find itself, a chicken head,
and a safe, dry place to sleep.