A pristine smoke was pointing
the where of pawns
abetting the glacial runaway.
Emblemic,
he was the last man on the stairs
ready to jump in the lake –
when night arrives.
Now this was the tipping point
to stand erect
where the tongue was wasting away,
The death staged a drama
of a feel up of young buds
in a virgin garden.
The key breaks the lock
and darkness prevails.
Satish Verma