LAKE SONG

Nothing makes or breaks now. 
I will not know you 
on the lake. The clouds and shoreline shudder. 
There was no speck of endurance. The wind 
falls with agonizing thud. 

The dusk was hoisting the white waves. 
Time to make peace. 
Moon will make an appearance 
with a veiled threat. 

A bleached skeleton on the sand 
wriggles to become alive 
like the bitterness. 

After a midnight death of a battered 
probe, it was time to give a final call. 
A fire will freeze like a rose 
in the wraps of black waters. 
The folk singer was coming.

Satish Verma