Primordial Legend Poem by Satish Verma
Primordial Legend
It was your demureness.
You want to go nomadic. I am sitting
under a sacred fig to understand humans.
A quarter moon throws
light on the half-broken wall to reflect
the mood of a run away river of tears.
I want to know the
meaning of indelible blood spots
on the forehead of an unmarried sun.
Thursday, November 11, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: river
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8/13/2026 6:26:37 AM # rel_20260811T123139Z_a98d49b
