PUZZLING

You toppled the invisible 
burning the unburied buttons 
joining the history of names. 

Will I be able to communicate 
with straw to find out the age 
of the unarrived seeds? 

There is too much violence in 
green blood. The broken tooth 
bled to death of a truth. The 

oratory was becoming a weapon 
to break your mirrors. Will there 
ever be peace to flying guests? 

A service should be rendered 
to the poem who burned like a 
candlelight in the stormy night.

Satish Verma