Short Melody

Folder: 
Satish Verma

It had touched, the wind 
of sky. 

The viola goes― 
pansexual. 

Purple, blue and white 
dog violet, 
one of the petal was 
landing gear for politics. 

A fugitive poet 
grumbles, eating the dark words. 

After suicide, the viscera 
was found blank, except 
the half-eaten plums.