What do you call the beast?
That feasts on a roadkill.
A lion, a tiger or a hyena?
Gnawing the injured with skill.
Too weak to hunt a swift one,
Too meek to claim by daylight.
Always lurking in night’s shadow,
To pounce at the meat of chance.
Such valor, such wily art,
Startled is the half alive,
More than the headlight,
That jumped by road’s bend.
The thieving predator, was it a friend,
By day and was lost by night’s end.
Flattened by fate, taunted by mate,
The roadkill lies, wondering for a name.
Copyright. Shashikala Sasidharan.oct15, 2015