Poetry

A candid flint
stretches the sexlessness
of a family.
Let the rootless plants start
a ritual of reproduction.

A kiss of undergrass
takes you back home for a bloodless
dawn. Say something for those
who have not seen the moon.
No answers were available for green questions.

There was no naked mouth
to feed the darkness.The dew scorches
the flame.A cloud will lift
the night and scars will become opaque
in the forecast.


Satish Verma