Satish Verma
Understatement
Perched on a tree high
wave,
a moon was talking long
to me.
A live-in partenership
was in vogue. We always
loved each other breasts apart.
The weather was changing.
A plane load of tears would
disappear without a trace.
From somewhere a benign
lump explodes, making night,
a brilliant dream of
sleeping sky.
The hare jumps on the moon,
to snatch away the ambulatory
age, browsing around the death.
https://truml.com