Artful Pincers

A terror of alikeness looms like stricken birds, incenerated in split seconds. You smell the burning flesh in an air blitz. Nearing endgame a conceptual hate is jettisioned in sky. You start collecting the fragments of life. Words start jumping. You refuse to accept more than the want. And yet a finite listening was absent. And the secret kennel in the dead child fails to sprout. The toys and dreams lie unattended on birthday of the nation. A monogamous judge ascends to heaven. Any durable peace on the way ? Unruffled you are still in freezing water. The boat is half-submerged and tears are burning the deck. No wrinkles. The fish nod their fins for the final plunge. SATISH VERMA