Crab ApplesA Poem by Satish VermaCrab Apples
Tree nuts and squirrels,
play a game, as the day climbs up. The food chain moves swiftly. Walking on dead leaves I was trying to find the truth. How do I take you, when there were no steps to ascend the future. There was no history of time to come. And we are always trying to weigh each other. A ceramic goddess was hit, by pellets of frozen rain. Decapitated I pick up the head and place on the stump. She smiles. You float the words. I catch them, and write a poem. © 2021 Satish Verma |
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