The Watchman

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Eyes locked, slowly we drift 
knowing or not knowing; 
A conversation dips in laxity. 

The time stood around, eye-deep, 
unbelieving steel, which had bent 
forgetting the fortress of body. 

A narcissus weeps without eyes 
waiting for the evidence. 
A raging moon will not come. 

When nightingale stops singing 
how will I find your home? 
Far away half-naked sun was hiding. 

Ungrateful century splits the human 
species. Genes are jumping out. 
The watchman had left the door.