Last Journey Poem by Satish Verma
Last Journey
You wanted to be covered
with dahlias, unmeasuring―
the depth of tears.
How do I go finding
an elegy―
in dim moonlight?
En route I will pluck
the stars, in September.
And when the river goes in spate
and you are submerged,
I will spread a blanket of poetry.
Who wants the eternity
of soul. My love was very frail.
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: life
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4/23/2024 2:12:31 AM # 1.0.0.1119
