Hyperaesthesia Poem by Satish Verma
Hyperaesthesia
Growing moon seeds
on palms? Where was moon?
A single thought shakes us both.
Who was under
surveillance? You generate your
own rains to wash the stains.
Who you love in dark
when stars sleep and night
birds come out for singing.
Wednesday, March 4, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/3/2024 3:16:49 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Growing moon seeds are very rare and amazing really. This poem is very interestingly penned with essential rehabilitation. Thank you very much for sharing this lovely work....10