Feast for the Unfortunate

it was a day

unlike any other day

the sun went up

the garbage bins came down

tumbling forth

from the cleaner’s grip

laying its treasures

bare in the street

rotting fragrances

filled the air

out came the mutts

with practiced flair

days of starvation

will have to be gone

no more sniffing and chasing

pompous humans around

ravens from rooftops

cawed with renewed vigor

eyeing the debris

with quite some pleasure

cats faked a disinterest

some purred louder than the rest

the cleaner rushed

for his rake

lest the residents

yelled a mounting fake

a moment’s lack

is a treasure snatched

they knew it all too well

the mutts and the crows

all ran for their share

a feast truly, for the unfortunate.


Asha Seth