Unwaiting Poem by Satish Verma
Unwaiting
You are not what
love was. The moon never sets
to burn the barn. A god may arrive.
The kissed mark is
still glowing, making a birth
mark of an unknown deity.
I will call the property
of the priest to make full the
jar of tears after the death of the sun.
Friday, April 7, 2023
Topic(s) of this poem: birth
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8/8/2026 10:34:34 AM # rel_20260806T081513Z_580e7f4
