Not-Things

In a pair, they were flying:
two monarch butterflies.
Hither, thither―
Fluttering in synchronized wings.

There was a Stark effect
in silhouette. The fever rises
in the bush. Someone streaks
in the street after moon
Let us stop the mouths―
to remain open. A missile flies
above your head aimed
for the burial ground.

A nascent star screams.
There was yellow blood
on your hands. You had
squeezed the young fruits.

Satish Verma