perversity behind the orbs tilts,
scatters the fragile cohesion, a spectre
looms on the wrinkled face of an old tree,
the bee-eaters have flown away;
annual rings on wooden panels were defying the age
of smile on the mouth of bright doors
petitioning to the naked beams of body;
infusion of totality for antimutagens
of nude spiders weaving a lethal design:
the tender fall of deathless night on
forgetfull; I am ready to reach the bottom
of fear, bring out the poison for celebration,
unveiling the apes of tomorrow on the
black prints of dragonflies stumbling out
from golden words
Satish Verma