Washing Relics Poem by Satish Verma
Washing Relics
Stay with me to
see the blitzkrieg of comets
with long tails to shame moon.
I walk into the
trap laid by clever goons of thorn.
The tulips remain quiet.
The sharp tongues
throw the sinkers in sea.
There was no boat in sight.
Friday, April 3, 2020
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/5/2024 3:54:02 AM # 1.0.0.1119
