Two men condole, doffing their hats,
Affixed-eyed, to the mound of soil,
Beneath which are entombed, four cats;
Has gone the monthlong cyst and toil,
Which chewed their knees till bones were seen-
They sleep here now with no turmoil;
Since our housing, cats have been,
The sole custodian from woe,
Fate has left us three from thirteen;
To my parents, eldern and slow,
Cats semble like daughters and boys-
I'm employ-bound and barely show;
In their pouncing, parents rejoice,
Who form a frolicsome brigade,
Of nails and screeches, leaps and noise;
'Now is childhood', cats persuade,
Expunge the thought- there comes decay
And like them, we will one day fade;
And since I am so far away,
Caring for cats, Maa cares for me,
In serving fish, passes her day;
Once thirteen were, now there are three,
Each hearsed by father and a kin,
This home has lost activity.
--
Shamik Banerjee is a poet and poetry reviewer from the North-Eastern belt of India. He loves taking long strolls and spending time with his family. His deep affection with Solitude and Poetry provides him happiness.