Tracking
To stay put
without a trace of hurt,
I have come back to you.
When, halfway, the perception falls
off, like landing of a dragonfly.
Tilting moon will tell you the
secret of the scar. Those tiny
irises come alive when tears
start melting in your eyes. A
tiger moth will ask why the pistil
was blind ?
I was waiting, crawling, among
the honeybees. To find the
dawn in the sleeping night. An
absurd dragging of
the summer, when chill was around.
Satish Verma.
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