Friday 11 September 2015

Rudraprayag

after Jim Corbett, The Man-Eating Leopard of Rudraprayag

There is a road in the mountains
between Badrinath and Kerdanath.
Shrines that sheltered pilgrims
for thousands of years.
The road now shelters no one.

Flu-ravaged corpses lined the banks
of two rivers nourished by glaciers.
Coals sat in their mouths
to absorb the stench of death.

The corpses' flesh filled
the stomach of leopard.
The road fell under its shadow.
For eight years it prowled
through the mountains

and found prey in every village.
It leapt through windows,
snatching infants from their cribs
with barely a noise,
just silence remaining.

One of those villages
became its favourite haunt.
A small place on the road,
huddled in between the river
and a forested mountain.

The houses of Rudraprayag are
still. Goats bleat uneasily, while
cows stare dumfounded into the gloom.
A lantern on the headman's porch
cools from the heat of its flame.

A shadow crosses the threshold.
It rips and slashes the locked door,
breaking it down with force of hunger.
Gnarled teeth plunge into the soft throat
so only a whisper escapes.
It tears the man from his bed
into the cover of the night.

(Hi guys, the Tiger Poet here. Hope you enjoyed this poem, there are plenty more on their way. It's been very quiet these last few months, but hope you all had a good summer. See you soon.)