Lake Song

Nothing makes or breaks now. I will not know you on the lake. The clouds and shoreline shudder. There was no speck of endurance. The wind falls with agonizing thud. The dusk was hoisting the white waves. Time to make peace. Moon will make an appearance with a veiled threat. A bleached skeleton on the sand wriggles to become alive like the bitterness. After a midnight death of a battered probe, it was time to give a final call. A fire will freeze like a rose in the wraps of black waters. The folk singer was coming. SATISH VERMA