Treasure Island

Satish Verma

(5-6-1935)

Blackened Seeds


A hot body
was a hymn to the night.

I will drink
the moonlight.

In December─
a poem? Words freeze

in full bloom. The
corona becomes blue.

A rose bud breached.
Beast was out.

Submitted: Monday, May 05, 2014
Edited: Monday, May 05, 2014

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