Never To Sleep Poem by Satish Verma
Never To Sleep
Those migratory storks,
will not come
this year.
The lake was burning.
The secret kill
of the wringer
was metastasizing.
Make the tether-
small for the macabre
end. I am not yet
frozen. The stalker
will not leave the
flame. Outside a tribute
was ready for
an uprooted tree.
My shadow moves ahead
to catch a cage bird,
in the parrot green sky.
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5/5/2024 11:14:51 AM # 1.0.0.1119
