Yellow Roses Poem by Satish Verma
Yellow Roses
Have not written a single
word today, for you.
As if I was fishing
without a line.
Mixing the precursors
on the hills to invite the
mustard moon, for a─
dance with kingfishers.
There was no grief, no
scars. My hands becoming
empty. Parrots are gone.
There was no speech, no goodbyes.
The book is blank. Un─
printed pages. Nothing more
to be said. Only a smoke
tracing a face inside a face.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Delivering Poems Around The World
Poems are the property of their respective owners. All information has been reproduced here for educational and informational purposes to benefit site visitors, and is provided at no charge...
4/26/2024 4:23:34 PM # 1.0.0.1119
