Your genome was climbing down.
I hate to count the steps.
Feathers hurt sometimes
after the end of flying.
How far was the moment of dust?
You were still swimming in saline water.
A collective guilt will pay the price.
Blissfully nothing else was to be done.
On your behalf I will not accept any alms
I was giving it, and I was taking it.
Was it a disaster, a visit from the lake.
My feet were wet and my eyes were wet.
Satish Verma