when torn clouds bared blue holes
the river brimmed with ecstasy.
it had rained the whole day
and she was bursting in seams
to tell her side of the story
from the many
upon her shore's mangrove.
how the tiger guards her treasures,
prawns and ***** and honeys and woods,
pounces from the saline thickness of the mist
when dream of life is heavy on the gatherer
and smell of death far gone forgotten
rips the flesh cracks the skull open
flows the blood as silent night
carries the trophy for a bony rest
till devoured by her floodwater.
the river knows it too well
the tiger is her lover and loyal sentinel.
The Sunderban tigers prey upon the fishermen, crab catchers, woodcutters, and honey gatherers who venture into their territory, more often illegally, driven by the lure of the wealth in the river and on her shores.