No Titles Poem by Satish Verma
No Titles
You said
this was it.
The fog over the
shoulders will
sweep the profiles.
You did not know
how to give, and I
would not know, how
to take.
Maples, pears, and ginkgos
will show the fallacy
of colors in autumn.
And you, unblinkingly
watch a
poet's dilemma.
And I would just only stare
into your eyes.
Friday, August 11, 2017
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/8/2024 3:07:12 PM # 1.0.0.1119
