Sonorous Tones

Satish Verma

To skim the sky 
like swifts, 
when you move away 
from yourself. 

Holding a four-leaf clover, 
night drapes the moon, 
taking a lion's share of light 
on its wings. 

Your full lips defeat 
the kisses of incense. I 
will come again to 
learn Ars poetica. 

The fake blooms. I will 
never see the death 
of a rose petal, skipping 
the barbs.