Theme: Life


The animal thing inside: 
My half-brother, 
was unsettling me. 

Over the sunset I watch 
the drawing procession 
carrying the dead body of a tiger. 

The light is fading. The stripes 
were becoming a myth. The 
guest was ready to depart. 

I am holding the molten lava 
in an urn. In the black sky 
a satellite burns to undo the grief. 

There is no death, no stopping. 
A face pressed between the leaves 
of a book smiles. 

You come back to me in rains. 
I call you by cinders dancing 
in the mirror of whistling time.


More By  :  Satish Verma

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