Futility Poem by Satish Verma

Futility



The snow mounds
have started gliding―
on the rocks like
mute swans.

I was collecting
the landmarks of my failures.
From jade to jade
and wins.

Plucking the fear
to remain alive in the
ruins of wingless dreams.

I cannot catch your
face now, in my words.
The grey hounds of dementia
would not wait.

Saturday, August 5, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Rajnish Manga 06 August 2017

Nicely articulated poem with an intense expression of inner most feelings. Thanks, Verma ji. I was collecting / the landmarks of my failures. I cannot catch your / face now, in my words. The grey hounds of dementia / would not wait.

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