O viola,
go over the grapes
and find an ageless green.
It is difficult
to be born
again, undoing death.
You swoon
at the continuity
of crossroads -
with blue flags
in your bowl.
A rosette,
without a winner.
A birthday gift
for all the failures.
At seventy five
you walk over a prairie
to find a shade.
Satish Verma