on my piece of earth
temples are girdled with strays,
priests, pilgrims.
every rag picker pets a stray.
generations of strays, beliefs, believers ---
on a rotation, coming and going, ---
leave neither bark or bite.

on my piece of earth
nowhere to hide kills
(oh, nothing left to kill),
no arguments over graves
no discussions over pyres,
in corners,
strays nibble at teaspoons of grass.

on my piece of earth
sun, moon, stars nap in turns
as cars honk for right of way
running over strays.

on my piece of earth
fresh as a new sari,
revathi ambles to the temple praying,
smiling over fun  nights,
frowning over lunch menus for grandkids.
rarely misses the routine,
devotees search and sight her,
srays with bylines track her.

on my piece of earth
occasional notes of forest foot beats,
ancient drumbeats,
tender heart beats,
strays upbeat.


.......