Morning Landscape Poem by Satish Verma

In shrinking façade
of sky, my ardor was on edge.
Will you target the―
moon now?

Like sitting in a
padded cell, you want to
tell― everything to god of violence.

Was the time really
ready to explode at the
face of sun, pay obeisance
to Kali?

The golden statue of
a nymph has come for sale,
in swish of a candle's flame.
Any price for humanity at large?

The cherry trees are
in bloom, shedding their
veils. Nobody stands under
them for fear of discovery.