Strange Echoes

by Satish Verma

a kiss
on lips, returns with a blunt style,
in perfumed demeanor!

I did not hear
with absolute eyes, a captive
in chained feet, for self-defence;

all the shades of red
were walking on ocean,
a black skull glides:

the night fills in pores-
the gale, kills the black bucks,
poachers were on run!

in telling, the wizard
entices, you will never know
full toll of civil war:

he turns down a gift of speech;
words and whistles were surreal echoes
and I see a sword like nose

11-Feb-2011

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