In Bald Sun Poem by Satish Verma
In Bald Sun
Visible
of invisible blues―
the hesitancy
to shut the door.
I speak for
myself in haze
reaching heights
and deep sea.
The mother in
child weeps;
when we will
meet father?
Insufficiency
brings the split.
Monday, March 20, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/19/2024 2:09:24 PM # 1.0.0.1119
