Poetry

fingers printed on face
they offered apologies for the mudslide
after the typhoon
standing on the mound
of twisted bones;

the state had the right
to trample and extinguish
a bright flame,
a meteor, streak of dissent

only the sect, the clan
will surround the holy tree
to save the doomed species in the jungle
of laughing hyenas

i see my limbs separated
a piano remains untuned


Satish Verma