Trembling Daffodils

Satish Verma

The snow: 
Pounding the earth, trees 
the man. 
Centuries of hunger repeat the 
raven's walk on icefield. 

The drum beats again. 
The cold war tapping 
at your doors. Missiles made 
ready to fly. 

The rhyme comes back to 
weave the funeral song. 
Blood curdles, as you step up 
the agony. 

The stings, the venoms, 
the blue veins. The murderers 
were ready to- 
receive the gifts.