Incanting Poem by Satish Verma
Incanting
It was restless mind
and I ask you something.
The grammar.
When something big―
happens, I find an excuse
to say small things.
O invisible!
how do I resolve the puzzles
of life. It had become a big
traumatic event.
The rain―
of inflected words
backed up by silence, keeps
me running―
to find the import.
Tell me―
how do I remember you.
Thursday, May 4, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/3/2024 2:45:24 AM # 1.0.0.1119
