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