Poetry by Dr. Pragya Suman

Corpses are Clattering

I see milky spoons

Littered on the bypass.

My mother used to feed me.

Father talked rotten politics.

Even the corpse of black hound

Sumptuous dinner in the Daabha

—Rustic ride. They all are alive

Black hole of whistling castle of

My mangled memory.

I stand, since ten years,

Beneath the big clock.

A tower square moved the world,

Once upon a time.

Corpses clatter in their square dig.

Red lorry’s arrived!

Dr. Pragya Suman is Doctor by profession, and she is posted in medical college. Literature is her passion. She is from India.