New Year's Mirror Poem by Satish Verma
New Year's Mirror
In the empty house
of snow,
though, interred a blade of grass
when I was searching one
midnight flame
in frozen night, on
parting lips of darkness.
The art of delusion
churns the sea for an untitled
arsenic, of a blue throat.
I am dynasty and I am
the king of million whites.
Fatherless sins
in rusted boots
were having a last laugh.
Saturday, May 28, 2011
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4/24/2024 8:27:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
