Poetry

Crossing the hate walls,
turning up the severed moon in stunning
landscape, you scatter the rose petals on ice.
One day I will find your frozen footsteps
of self-denial.

Now he has made the lines of stem cells free
for nymphs. Double helix will make the new Barbie dolls.
The cruel thing builds the dredged gravel difficult
to swallow on a price. I don't have bricks to
make a house of love.

His picture now hangs in the street. The
white smile no longer sails to wrestle with sun.
Stark naked, my luck now grips the black rock
of golden sleep. I will come back with
new moonrise.


Satish Verma