![]() Different ViewsA Poem by Satish Verma![]() On the canvas, I was drawing only the feet―![]()
On the canvas,
I was drawing only the feet― in run. No heads, no torsi. Was it a dark vision, when you found the inert bodies, crowding the summit? Primates had already devised the sponge, to gather up the answers. Geraniums become blind― after their involvement, in sorcery. Making an inventory of fugitives, no body was left at home, when fire broke out. © 2019 Satish Verma |
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