AFTER THE STORM

Unfettered for a little while, I was 
catching the sleep visitor. It hurts 
when the dream ends and a poem starts. 
An eucalyptus, drinking lots of water, throwing the aroma 
incensing the air, I pick up the fallen seeds of light 
in winter solstice, befriending the home traumas. 

Fireflies leave the scorched marks of daydreaming. 
I talk to moon for sometime and leave my address 
with him. Tomorrow he will come to inherit the 
pain. I wanted a sunless garden to commit 
the sin of forgetting you. The night will find 
me undying till eternity. 

In my words I carry the charred remains 
of time which smells the hunger of tomorrow. 



Satish Verma