BON VOYAGE

Absolute yes or no 
makes you wish 
not to understand philosophy 
of semipermeable life. 

Sort of, lies pass through, 
truth is left behind. 
The fingerprints don’t speak 
the identity of runaway minutes. 

Somewhere you fail miserably, 
break the cushions 
and lie on thorns 
to feel the terror of time. 

Where the birds have gone? 
Trees have startled the sky. 
The staircase is broken. 
Bon voyage to blue eyes.

Satish Verma