They were decapitated
To send forth again, fresh,
the green twigs of summer.
Trees of roadside.
My friends, I used to talk
to them in my morning walk.
Once I sat under
a wishing tree for a divine feel.
There were lots of colored threads
tied round the massive trunk.
I wanted to arrive in the neighbourhood
of absurd escapes of a
My footfalls on stairs were becoming
louder, lugging the wasted life.
It was time now.
To understand the deep shadows
of unanswered questions.
Satish Verma's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (Millstone by Satish Verma )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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William Butler Yeats
(13 June 1865 – 28 January 1939)
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