Predators

A Poem by Satish Verma

Predators

The aura was waning.
White pigeons―
were not ready to stay.

They wanted to go
home, wingless― from where
they were kidnapped.

Braless the moon, laughs.

Garment sellers, were
placing the bets on valentines.
Where they will land?

The watchmen will
abandon the gates.

de rigueur
demands the undressing
in public to show the scars.

Someone wants to
become bisexual.
Not made for each other.