Counting The Pains Poem by Satish Verma
Counting The Pains
You ought to have stopped
me, in my knocked out desires, promising
the light soon to open the hibiscus.
Small cotton seeds have
started flying. The night of love
weaves black gown to cover the wounds.
I touch, I feel you to
catch your shadow. The cardinal
always takes a round to knock you.
Tuesday, December 22, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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5/4/2024 9:12:54 AM # 1.0.0.1119
