Hidden Paths Poem by Satish Verma

Hidden Paths



Autumn sets
deeper, after equinox. The
homesick moon comes close.

*

Was there any hope
beyond the darkness?
My hands are very dirty.

*
What was the maniac
pain of the sea?
No boat wants to sink.

*

Soundless was your
enemy in bush.
Why were you lamenting?

Tuesday, November 1, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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