Strange Pictures Poem by Satish Verma
Strange Pictures
Don't read;
feel the words. They weep
in full moon.
The hills were
moving. Trees wouldn't
wear the dresses.
I was not ready
for autumn. Can you come
back after the death
of hope?
The stalkers
stand in queue
to harness the dark energy.
The frills were
beautiful. Face was missing.
Wednesday, November 14, 2018
Topic(s) of this poem: poem
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5/5/2024 12:47:58 PM # 1.0.0.1119
Satish, such a profound poem...............