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Terracotta
Folder:
Satish Verma With fractured hands
I lit a pyre
of small nudes
with pink globes.
A moon bleaches me white in a long night.
A reprieve was needed
from the scorching sun
opening a jinx
of a metaphor.
The poems will take care of the burning home.
Of deaths and forecasts
I would like to see the
ending of descent
from the mount of pain
The ice will tremble in the smoke.
The Moon is bright
On nights such as this.
Tripweed to Reality
Is being passed around.
KS
You write some interesting
You write some interesting lines. I've taken to reading your poems out loud with this very strange voice I wish I could figure out how to describe.
Copyright © morningglory
Rajasthan is the land of born poets & lyricists
They are wonderful folk singers. Respected Mr Vetma belongs to Rajasthan
©bishu