Poetry

Not the words, you were burning the papers sideways. It was a public domain someone was drowning a child in a milk pot. And the half-past moon, iodine level was rising in ocean. On the beach, the dancing sand throws up the dead horse after dysfunctionality. Pray for the bleeding sun, its golden mane has inspired the mimicry of a leaf. The grass hopper is going to find the secret of chlorophyll.Satish Verma