DAMNED

Discarded, on a heap of broken 
ceramics, a rotten tooth wants an 
award, for biting the snake. 
Who was pulling the strings? 

The temper of a black moon 
beguiles the sun. The green-pathway 
was hidden under the rock. 
Who was holding the baby? 

I am again bewitched by my own 
failures. Searching my legs under 
the bush, my wodden self cries. 
Who was asking the question?

Satish Verma