The Reverie

Satish Verma

It was devastating. 
Out of boredom, drops in 
the moon, in the month October. 
Hanging over a palm, 
to shake hand with a 
lone survivor, 
a firefly. 

A silvery silence 
explodes in you face, before 
you write a simple word 
on the golden leaf. 

And I must undo 
the locks of complex, winged 
life, which will not set― 
me free from the funeral 
pain. I am going to 
meet myself, beyond you.