The Lizard and the Poet

The green lizard on the cemented wall
near the bright yellow light
that fills the room
while the sunlight is away,

It sticks its tongues out,
traps a fly,
chews on it,
swallows it.


The lizard wriggles its tail –
contented with the newly acquired food
and the bright, warm, yellow light.


The poet twists and turns,
prays for sleep which is comforting
to come
and thoughts which make him feel lonely
to leave.

Nothing happens –
the fan in the room makes the only sound,
and the crickets outside buzz –
filling the lonely night
with all they can offer.

He gets up,
takes out a pen
and a sheet of paper,
writes a poem clumsily,
switches off the light –
partially contended with the newly created words,
tries to sleep.

But tonight,
it is different.

Loneliness creeps in like
a cat
following its prey –
its very own shadow.


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