Green Waters

Satish Verma

Gifting yourself the speed― 
you betray me, when 
I was trying to heal― 
the injured wings of time. 

Archipelago. The islands 
were very lonely in frozen lake. 
No boat was in sight. 

Having no coastline, 
the landlocked language, 
suffers the ignominy of the tribe. 

The neighbourhood crawls 
after the nose-dive of 
the plane without agenda. 

Shelterless, you want more 
sunshine to fight with 
the cold beach.