Wary Of Tomorrow

Satish Verma

A moth love was evolving, 
without a flame. 
You are going to bang the wall. 

It was too early 
to sing aubade. Night was 
still rolling on the leaves. 

A tall tree failed, 
to send the message of moon drop. 
How will I read my palm now? 

At funeral, a crowd 
waits for the bride. The groom 
jumped off the dam. 

No music was left 
between the lips. Angst 
was palpable in stumps.