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Emptying
Folder:
Satish Verma perversity behind the orbs tilts,
scatters the fragile cohesion, a spectre
looms on the wrinkled face of an old tree,
the bee-eaters have flown away;
annual rings on wooden panels were defying the age
of smile on the mouth of bright doors
petitioning to the naked beams of body;
infusion of totality for antimutagens
of nude spiders weaving a lethal design:
the tender fall of deathless night on
forgetfull; I am ready to reach the bottom
of fear, bring out the poison for celebration,
unveiling the apes of tomorrow on the
black prints of dragonflies stumbling out
from golden words
