Scent Will Be Buried Poem by Satish Verma

This way it was
this way it happened
I could not run along the river.

Your face floats
like a skylamp.
Halfway rainbow was broken.

How did it happen?
I became transgenic
by the kiss of death.

This was my victory
I surrendered the cushion.
You sleep in my arms.

Again I will wander
in the graveyard
where my angel was sleeping.

This is my last letter
in the month November
Now the scent will be buried in snow.