Au Revoir

Satish Verma

Skin deep, the moon 
goes with me, 
to bid goodbye to old year. 

I have moved nearer 
to the door knob, 
of the unopened crypt. 
The stale air leaks from the crumbling door. 

The unfinished books 
are under the frost. I cannot 
shovel the walk. A grainy 
picture emerges, of despair. 

Going to dig up the ruins 
to find the script. 
Ink spills on the paper, 
words depart.