You Didn’t Tell Him The Name

A Poem By Kushal Poddar

The shadows elongate.
Must be a reason- you feel
no guilt
the way you do every gloaming.

Blue strums the clothesline;
people’s inner secret undulate.
You warm some milk and let
it go undrunk, cold.

You call a son, not yours,
even if he is, not anymore.
No guilt tonight.
The baritone of the phone
ringing on the other side sings
in the darkness to no appreciation
and if he picks up the call
guilt returns.

Authored ‘The Circus Came To My Island’, ‘A Place For Your Ghost AnimalsUnderstanding The Neighborhood’, ‘Scratches Within’, ‘Kleptomaniac’s Book of Unoriginal Poems’, ‘Eternity Restoration Project- Selected and New Poems’ and now ‘Herding My Thoughts To The Slaughterhouse-A Prequel’ (Alien Buddha Press)

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