Personal Loss Poem by Satish Verma
Personal Loss
Rating: ★5.0
Root sounds.
I prefer intimate pathos.
Not easy.
I don't live
in night.
Yellow words
on green thoughts.
The fall was
imminent.
I wait for the snow
to bury my past.
Love becomes fluid
I was never dead.
Monday, January 29, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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4/26/2024 5:52:33 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Quite fascinating and philosophical. Thanks, Satish ji. The fall was / imminent. I wait for the snow / to bury my past.