Smitha Sehgal (Delhi, India)
Malabar Gliding Frog
door to the patio
opens to cinnamon tree
a gliding frog intercepts
quiet, lithe,
blending on the brown bark
it isn’t that we have never met
the bulge of heavy-lidded eyes, singular betrayal
of plantain leaves, tap of a woodpecker
‘there’ I point ‘there, towards the hedge’
that noon I discover—
I am the trespasser
Bird Sanctuary
My brother, the flamingo turned lion keeper
feeds piranhas, “from the Amazon river”
he says, they crowd around a chunk of flesh, later
disappears into the hay stacked dimly lit birth-
room. On the white of his palm, blind,
raw skin, new life, outside
the summer of tortoise, we beam.
Each journey unravels the joy of a seed
tapping into the sunlight of fruit trees. Early
winter he comes down with sallow skin, lichens growing
on his eyebrow. Pathology reports rumble he is a
returning flamingo. In the corridor, white noise
bird squawk, and bough of leaves flutter. Shrouded in ochre-
white feathers, a bird in deep meditation on
a pyre, fanning flame wings into the twilight sky
before softly taking off. It rained all night.
Smitha Sehgal is a legal professional from India. She writes poetry in two languages: English and Malayalam. Her poems have been featured in contemporary literary publications Usawa Literary Review, Madras Courier, Panoply, Shot Glass Journal and elsewhere.