Being Grateful

Trying to shake hands
with moon hanging out, to
reconstruct a memory.

Was fortunate
to have survived the night.

A theater of death was birthing.

No sighting of mercy,
I was going to punish myself.
The faithless will hatch a plot.

Why swear words
are needed to make a point?

The man-eater
was climbing up.
Your body language leaves you.
In despair of aloneness
quietism overtakes.

You have reached there,
where you had willed.
I will wait for the wasps.

Satish Verma