Recuperating Poem by Satish Verma
Recuperating
Only the bones will
tell, how tall you were
without flesh.
This was my bane.
All night I walked towards
the moon to locate you.
Sucking sound does
not die. I wanted to reach
unannounced near the fire.
This was pathological.
There was no prophecy.
Panic makes you a viper.
You don't become a
silver after passing through
the dark tunnel.
Wednesday, June 14, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/27/2024 2:24:40 PM # 1.0.0.1119
