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Poems :  PREDATION
Tags: Life  
 
There was no clear move.
Flamethrowers were on the way─

and I was looking,
backward.

A fragile truce with the
clouds. They had abandoned─

the sky and were wringing─
the neck of mountains.

Compromising with the painted lips
of winter, my secret was out.

I was shivering in the crowd
of moon-gazers.

Satish Verma



Satish Verma

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satishverma
Author satishverma
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Date 2014/10/24 5:20:06
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Recents
Lashing Out
Making Gunpowder
Forked Tongues
Lost Vision
The Candle In Snow
Random
A TORN PAGE
Missing
WALKING TOELESS
CONCORDIA
DARK FEET
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