Reckless Winds Poem by Satish Verma

Reckless Winds



Return to an old style.
I hold the breadth, crippled in
grip. No deterrence. I want your drink.

Let me become intro-
spective. I am god, creating moon's
corona. Everyone looks schizophrenic.

Roses in summers were
sad. No color sticks. Only flowing
blood was red. Butterflies disappear.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Anil Kumar Panda 09 May 2022

Classic write. Enjoyed.

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