No TitlesA Poem by Satish VermaNo Titles
You said
this was it. The fog over the shoulders will sweep the profiles. You did not know how to give, and I would not know, how to take. Maples, pears, and ginkgos will show the fallacy of colors in autumn. And you, unblinkingly watch a poet's dilemma. And I would just only stare into your eyes. © 2021 Satish Verma |
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