Unbecoming Of The Poem Poem by Satish Verma
Unbecoming Of The Poem
The fat moon
rises, when the bland earth
gives a call.
Like the black magic
of depression, in fall,
overwhelming the silence.
Of not becoming, what
you wished me to be,
or not to be.
A conflict always,
climbs the wall to overlook,
the pain of separation.
This winter, I am not
going to witness, the death
of night birds.
Friday, June 3, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poems
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5/2/2024 3:36:48 PM # 1.0.0.1119
