DEBTS OF GRATITUDE`

Wanted to pay 
debts of gratitude. 
There was a call from evergreens, 
he was not ready to go. 

Standing in pit of snakes 
he was preparing himself for a random fang, 
throat like a blue-bird 
waiting for a song. 

The solid waste of numerals 
across the thinking, 
developed plaques, while philosophy 
was accepting innovation. 

The authority had started 
reading the couplets. 
Glory came earlier 
sea cracked into shells.

Satish Verma