Healed Landscape Poem by Satish Verma

An unusual melody,
a reticent antiquarian
I will wear my galloping age
with your dark eyes.

The lines were drawn
in the crocus fields.
We were fighting for the wild
immitative geckoes.

A toad stumbles out from the eyelids
of a zero hour. You will not
touch the counterfeit of questions
thrown at the meadows.

Evening of life celebrates
the failures. In the beginning
there were no lights.
End came with a red moon.