What Was InvisibleA Poem by Satish VermaWhat Was Invisible
It is.
It was not. The volcano was collapsing. What was happening, and what wouldn't happen. I didn't want you to be lost among my poems. The window weeps. Moon won't come to sit on the palm tree in the sight of a lonely pen. Death comes on tiptoes for the flamingo, stranding in meditation. A pack of wolves was waiting. Who will pay for speaking the truth? © 2023 Satish Verma |
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