One unkempt, infected dog
in its heat
barks at flowers
burdened to the core
with its frenzied displeasure
against anything beautiful
or nearly close to it
Hanging low from
the other side of wall
are green scared branches
with flowers in white
almost dried under the
burning callous sun
Insanity of the bark
carries far
A few passer-by
hurl at it stones
casually, or
out of thirst
Hardly any shade around
straight built walls
A butterfly appears from
nowhere
sits quietly on its back
and starts licking
its maddened
dishevelled fur
around where
fleas had always
been shitting
and making merry
The butterfly holds up
gently,
patiently,
thoroughly
The fleas
flee
one by one
This dog with burning eyes,
almost always
had a frothing mouth
A soft touch
was awaited for long
The incessant howling stops.
People tend to seek roses-
but only the good roses
That was the only instance of love
I ever witnessed
.
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