satishverma

Isful ah-ness!

Winter has stopped indulging. 
Brown body of summer 
longs for the full lips of moon. 
I become saddened 
tracking time. 

Desire is now a temple 
outraged by sun 
starts a dialogue with winds. 

Grey hills kill the songs 
and empty life again fills in 
the cargo of memories. 

Silence is cool, ticks like a clock 
breaks a stone 
and melts into night. 

I prepare to die again 
amidst the disguises of fidelities. 


* A Phrase from Les Murray.

Satish Verma