SWEATING

Myriad of grasshoppers were sitting 
on the leapless bush 
celebrating the earth. 

I was never happy 
with the anniversary of thirst 
eating the memories of green. 

His hand rummages 
to collect the shrunk berries 
from my chest. 

Today the sun will step down 
in honour of a cloud 
who opened a hole in a collider 

I am the mother 
and I am the father 
of a homeless moon.

Satish Verma