Without Shelters Poem by Satish Verma
Without Shelters
Rating: ★5.0
Ahead of pain, certain
things are not to be printed on
the bronzed body of a ghost.
When you walk around
a bonfire, fireflies will come out
to make a garland.
I forget to script the rise
of a volcano in the chest of a
wandering truth.
Thursday, November 3, 2022
Topic(s) of this poem: volcano,fireflies
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8/4/2026 10:28:31 AM # rel_20260803T153344Z_4267e77
Profound, enigmatic words. Lovely poem.