Midnight Blues Poem by Satish Verma
Midnight Blues
Like godfather,
moon was giving a
benevolent smile.
Picking at bedclothes.
Cannot sleep―
moon was too bright.
Stony creek.
I collect the pebbles―
of all colors.
The peacocks―
cried in rising crescendo.
Night was silent.
Tuesday, January 3, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/26/2024 10:24:56 AM # 1.0.0.1119
