Debts Of Gratitude

by Satish Verma

Wanted to pay
debts of gratitude.
There was a call from evergreens,
he was not ready to go.

Standing in pit of snakes
he was preparing himself for a random fang,
throat like a blue-bird
waiting for a song.

The solid waste of numerals
across the thinking,
developed plaques, while philosophy
was accepting innovation.

The authority had started
reading the couplets.
Glory came earlier
sea cracked into shells.

26-Nov-2011

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