Can Die

Wide awake, the double helix splits. Chasing the debris of refusal to die. The new genes choose to mutate, fencing the child who wanted to become only brain. No flesh, no bones. Will he survive on this date? In the tortured ravines of hate and someone will not hang him from the tall branches of yew? The train was burning on the track, bridge collapsed in the valley of gloom and snow bound peaks were splattered red. The young shadows are afraid to return to play. The fibrosis will not allow the fingers to move, to pick up the tulips, waiting for the first time, to be harvested. The gardner is dead under the dew. It was cloudy again. SATISH VERMA