Indigenously Poem by Satish Verma
Indigenously
Sheer drop of lightning
takes the brown
land by storm.
The cult grows―
in the hills for
the wolf to stay.
There was no healing
ceremony after
the snake bites.
The bodies are revered with thyme,
when the moon
dips, before dawn.
The natives
were ready to abandon
the glory of man made world.
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/26/2024 12:27:09 AM # 1.0.0.1119
