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Mixed Voices
Folder:
Satish Verma You break me up,
with a tinge of salt―
playing with your god.
Like a new moon
talking to sky,
nixing the old bed―
leaving behind the baby steps.
Unvisited words
cause deep ripples.
You were climbing a tall autumn.
Wasn't it the malefic
effect of Mars on the trembling
legs of a pilgrim?
Having no-reservation,
curse of dismantling a pyramid
looms large.
I was not afraid
of half-lion, half-human.
Root suckers were happy.
