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Acrimony
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Satish Verma In longest night
of pitch-dark space
you disappear like an arrow.
No star brightens your face.
Rumor was cruising like a bat on streets
to capture the gullible victim
on winter solstice.
The snow was falling like
sorcery.
A little anxiety to taste the
dried out grapes
and listen to the hunger
mouthless.
You draw the lake
on a canvas
and then jump into it
with visible nakedness.
"...like sorcery..."
Got snagged on this line. The last verse/stanza defines poeting (& any creativity) for me ~a~
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