One Rendezvous

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Sweet grapes? There was 
no exit from the question 
hour. You left the sky 
for an answer, after a soul-search. 

An appointment with unknown 
scares you. It will not 
work.It will not breathe. 
They had taken away the gold 

and left coal mines.The aliens. 
You become outsider in your 
own home. The time drips 
on your unmooned face. 

A middle low pain and a middle 
low moan will prescribe a 
valley of terracotta to make a 
new road where you can walk straight.