Author Information
Earth Takes the Price
Folder:
Satish Verma These are black days
in purple cubes. My intimate poems
were still nascent, accounted for.
You become Mimosa pudica
in the cusp of liberty. You have emptied
yourself by sending god to other religions.
Tell you, I may forget me,
but will not forgive me. When I left my coat,
our ancestors were already gone unspoken.
This poem makes me wish for
This poem makes me wish for something: it makes me wish for a long volume of poems from you in this form. The understated voice, the powerful imagery, the emotion that speaks through the words without overclouding them . . . wow!!! You are one of the finest Poets on this site, and I have been far too neglectful and careless in failing to say this repeatedly.
Starward