Retreat
Remember it not.
Oblivion,
Let it slide into cave.
The annual rings of old wood are
hurting.
Tree of life burning inside.
It cannot happen
it can happen.
There is no certainty.
this is certainty.
Bread with hoofs
no butter, no udder
no milk.
A spider in the bottle
slumbers on gaint legs
watches with red eyes.
Time to feed.
The aroma of sea.
Pungent smell of brown algae
the bathing moon,
a lone boat.
Did you know why I admire defeat,
retreat :
Perfect solitude,
featureless calm.
SATISH VERMA
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