A dog’s bark

At times there is death’s browning,
An experience of the fog in throat
A chemical stirred by a stray dog
Smelling our death in casual walk.

The dog is sniffing his own death
Barking head off on our intrusion
At a death walking in on two legs,
Trying to fight a fog in his throat.

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About nisheedhi

Retired banker with poetry and photography as chief interests
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