By Any ReckoningA Poem by Satish VermaA young grasshopper lands on the paper, I was writing upon,
A young grasshopper lands
on the paper, I was writing upon, making a chirping sound― and starts reading the poem. It was an exceptional treat for the eyes. Shutting the storm window, I will watch the rain― pounding on the frame, to recall the visitor― which was behaving like a celtic Druid, in meditation, to see the future of mankind. Not sure, the bent legs, will ever lift the body and propel it to move. The mayhem was thin, but I declared― the poetry was not for insects. © 2016 Satish Verma |
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