by Sarba Roy
In Sarba Roy’s poem, a young man contemplates his reluctance towards, and the eventual consequence of, saving a drowning puppy.
When I close my eyes to imagine
the touch of your skin
for the very first time,
I recall a woman with short arms
crying for help at passers-by.
So I reluctantly lent my longer ones
and picked you up by the ear,
while you struggled to stay afloat,
against the pull of sewage water.
For the next few days you followed me,
your squeals now gratitude-laden,
and I acted like the forbidden fruit
while you pranced around in Eden.
Seven days and several ways later,
when my ignorance made it clear
that your affection
was skidding off my indifference,
I admire you for letting me go,
for noticing me hence,
yet leaving me alone.
All I was doing, was stopping myself
from repeating what I always do;
perceiving rescue as love.
Or perhaps escaping my cowardice
and thereby teaching you a lesson
that your cries, for sure,
would’ve gone unheard,
if not for that woman.
Sarba Roy is a graduate in Economics from Jadavpur University, Kolkata. He recently had his own poetry book, ‘All That Will Remain’, published from Writers Workshop India. He has also been published in Muse India, Project Fuel, Spark Magazine and PicnStory. He hopes to better the world with his words.
