Listening Unheard VoicesA Poem by Satish VermaThe leaning neck of the moon, getting
The leaning neck
of the moon, getting intimate with a tall pine. Partheno-sculpting a protégé, without touching the essentials. Somebody waits for your footfalls. Somebody loves you without telling. Like sensory pits of a viper. I smell your heat. The swaying hips of downing night. Sun was rising. © 2020 Satish Verma |
StatsAuthor
|