Pravat Kumar Padhy

Doormat

I merely collect dust, slippery mud, crushed leaves, and wilted flowers as everyone rubs his shoes on me. Early morning, the sweeper mercilessly thrashes me on the floor.

temple city
the crowded road leads
to the destination

I prefer to remain calm and quiet. The street dog takes a long look at me when I render him a little bit of comfort of warmth in the winter night.

seaside
the footfalls
in silence

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About the Author

Pravat Kumar Padhy’s poetry has been featured in many journals and anthologies. His seventh collection of verse is The Speaking Stone.