THE SHRIEK

Arising before the dawn,
to meet the earth,
your honeymoon was over with innocent.

You start becoming extinct,
with stained excuses. Naked as a belief.

There was no contradiction.

An imitation will take over,
for the surreal tomb.

A gift of rain will fill the bowl
left for Buddha, who was still sleeping
with eyes half-open.

A sage grouse begins the mating dance.

Can you speak for the scars? They
promised to remain mute.

Satish Verma