Sailing On Peaks Poem by Satish Verma
Sailing On Peaks
The blue veins,
defending brazenly
the pink gloves.
Unwedded to moon,
I become sick
of hypocricy of hands.
As the boulders slide
on chest, to unbring the infancy
of snowfall. I put my shovel down.
Was it too early to start
the game pf ravishing
the temple of stains?
Looking at the pillars
that would not hold the
ceiling, inviting the moment’s eternity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/23/2024 2:58:33 AM # 1.0.0.1119
