There's a garbage-bin in front of my house. Neighbors and me We all dump into it The tied parcels Thrown from afar With the aplomb of a bowler Many times, hit the rim Spilling and spreading The smell and the sight. A small black cat is always there Right next to the bin It never stirs nor troubles in passive and meditative quiet gets into the house nearby in the nights everyday. Today as I was leaving house in the morning I saw the cat getting ready to move and cross my path- saw me coming out of my gate head bending to the left looked at me thought awhile halting perhaps considered the ill-omen And retraced its steps...
