Standing Under The Bo Tree Poem by Satish Verma
Standing Under The Bo Tree
You owe me nothing.
Renegade, my jewels were stolen.
Incredible, the squirrel goes on fast.
Wounded by words, you
were becoming daisy. Magic, magic
to fill in the empty mind.
An unique kiss still haunts.
An anniversary present to stitch the veins.
No blood moved after the accident.
Sunday, January 3, 2021
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
Life
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5/19/2024 6:15:07 AM # 1.0.0.1119
