Jungle Flower Poem by Pranab K Chakraborty

life not a matchbox
as told by my hot pit
never looked anything
except satisfying her jumping throbs

dynasty of a dead horse
inherited that quick look
to measure the thrust and to feel the speed
sometimes arrogant by refusal
consoled herself by imagining useless stick
a match lost by unnecessary ignition

and such a good guy once hanged by heart
with a fisherman knew only to catch and sell
winter night hit so heard listening the message
damped and deserted a matchbox thrown in the mud

Pranab k c
27/10/2025