CAN DIE

Wide awake, 
the double helix splits. 
Chasing the debris of refusal to die. 
The new genes choose to mutate, 
fencing the child who wanted to become 
only brain. No flesh, no bones. 

Will he survive on this date? 
In the tortured ravines of hate and someone 
will not hang him from the tall branches of yew? 
The train was burning on the track, 
bridge collapsed in the valley of gloom 
and snow bound peaks were splattered red. 

The young shadows are afraid to return 
to play. The fibrosis will not allow the fingers 
to move, to pick up the tulips, waiting for the 
first time, to be harvested. The gardner is 
dead under the dew. It was 
cloudy again.

Satish Verma