A pristine smoke was pointing
the where of pawns
abetting the glacial runaway.

Emblemic,
he was the last man on the stairs
ready to jump in the lake –

when night arrives.
Now this was the tipping point
to stand erect

where the tongue was wasting away,
The death staged a drama
of a feel up of young buds

in a virgin garden.
The key breaks the lock
and darkness prevails.


Satish Verma