Returning Your Message Poem by Satish Verma
Returning Your Message
Don’t let me go.
over the cork, a bottle
fights for the fluids
to flow out.
No apology to
feel you. There was
no death in the night.
A sun lies down beside me.
The flesh was disappearing.
A blue star alights,
to make a landmark
for the climbers.
No regrets
for the crunch of dry leaves
when you walk on the
grave of the witch doctor.
Monday, September 7, 2015
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/3/2024 9:56:22 PM # 1.0.0.1119
