Thinning Poem by Satish Verma
Thinning
Undating the memories
in final push to cauldron, I said:
let the words burn to ashes,
in terminal journey,
of eternal flight.
You turn a blind eye to sun’s venom.
Moon, the blue baby in a casket
rubbing the white clouds
for a trek to intoxication.
I ignore the opium field,
to collect the bullets
and bones of infants.
Seeking peace in a simple
shade of hymn.
Perhaps stars are listening.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 5:22:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
