Did Not We Cry? Poem by Satish Verma
Did Not We Cry?
Ash and smoke.
I am fever, not becoming
any sound.
Like a lichen, a mycorrhiza
on damp soil,
unfound by light.
Thriving in airless
dark. Will not see the cool―
moon of summer night.
There was no key
to find the invisible.
A random poem will see.
Your painted body
in blue scars, still
remembers the fallen roof.
Thursday, March 17, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/11/2024 12:43:47 PM # 1.0.0.1119
