Crossing The Fire Poem by Satish Verma
Crossing The Fire
Nothing to say in
infinite sky. The harvest moon
knows, the axes are coming.
The gale was very strong.
The blood has no home. We will
wash the windows of the temple.
Neck to neck, unkindness.
I hang the screams of the skulls of
buried children of red stars.
Monday, December 7, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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4/28/2024 12:31:42 AM # 1.0.0.1119
