For The Heritage Poem by Satish Verma
For The Heritage
For the beasts and men,
a transition will not work.
This was explicit cap―
the polar ice was melting.
He will not take the slights
for the moon. He will
not go far from the eyes
of stars.
Not enough, the astringent
microbes were peeling off
your mask. Sometimes you want
a frugal strangulation.
Incredible. The words
were making a mound, out―
of the space, left by
the departed fever.
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 2:40:56 PM # 1.0.0.1119
