Don't Alter The Red Cape

Satish Verma

Black names― 
were on list. Bring the 
French chalk to wipe out 
the white board. 

The list was still breathing 
though you had faked your death, 
and the birds had left their nests 
for new perches. 

Does it hurt you, when 
you go hungry? Even the grass 
was green. The prince 
was watching the apple fall. 

Who will climb the 
brown hills of moon, to 
witness the earth drop in 
withering trails?