Unstitching

Folder: 
Satish Verma

Do not take a vow of silence. 
Death will find its home. 

The circus has taken over 
the needles.Who will stitch 

the wounds of earth. A man 
walks into sunset carrying 

a bowl of tears. The sit-in 
was going to resist a poem 

of life. Would you unrobe 
your identity in public one day? 

Always I am punctuated at night 
by a yellow moon standing 

in my window. A nude goddess 
is going to mourn the death of a thought.