Satish Verma

Bronze Star - 2,816 Points (5-6-1935)

Pale Confession - Poem by Satish Verma

How can you talk to the moon
when the trees were watching?
It was her last sojourn
before boarding the illegal
traffic of clouds.

Pallbearers were always ready
to do something
religious like carrying
a god to the temple. I was not
sure it was midnight syndrome
of apoplexy.

Deep into the blue eyes
lies the inconceivable page
of unprinted book of a
failed attempt to harness
the darkness for a connection to unknown.


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Poem Submitted: Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Poem Edited: Wednesday, April 17, 2013


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