AGE OF THE STRAW

Silently you went to disappear in blue - 
alone or unalone - 
I was watching a moth 
on the burning lamp in night way 
scrawled flat as death’s signature 
on the heap of broken wings, 
between space and time 
an extra dimension, 

the position of a point from void to 
center of chaos, 
life extracts the measurement, 

a smile lost the lips 
a vision, eyes – 
outside body, the soul scribbles 
mist and crumbs of age.

Satish Verma