satishverma

Logistics

Midnight encounter.
In moon, on sand.
Why you were igniting a sheltered home
of wounded pride?

The blood spills
over the sea, in boat.
You were unrelenting, against traction
violence of unhappenings.

The blackness blooms.
A man will cross midstream,
writing on water the name of a lamb
who refuses to surrender.

I sit between the
kisses of dragonflies.
An empty paper nest waits for the wandering
wasps to come back with stings.



To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.