A Water's Game Poem by Satish Verma

A Water's Game



You were searching yourself
in my poems, after the river bled of
tears. I was painting the desert.

The pyramid of love was rising
for justice to reach the moon without stairs.
The duality of pain exists from you to me.

Why does a palm tree stand
at the door of my house. To wait for
the fading glory of the moon?

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