The Prairie WoolA Poem by Satish VermaThe trapped body will not listen to baby fugue.
The trapped body
will not listen to baby fugue. The perception will find― the writing on the flute. For Neptune, the liquid carries your voice. The fugacity will find the tongue of eternity. The sea has divided the land. Water sends the wreaths. The future will keep an eye on the scavenger, time. There were signs. It was going to become a predator. © 2016 Satish Verma |
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