Poetry

Satish Verma


older other poems newer

7 november 2021

Snake Dance

Silence was so loud―
a pain ago, would you
resume me now,
between a scion and stock.

The sap had dried up.
A tiny human inside a pen
draws the borders
of bleeding lacerations.

Black mouths,
confront the grizzled gods.
I want them now
in water.

Suicide of a fig tree was
evident. It had eaten its
own figs. No leaves
were left now.






wybierz wersję Polską

choose the English version

Report this item

 


Terms of use | Privacy policy

Copyright © 2010 truml.com, by using this service you accept terms of use.


You have to be logged in to use this feature. please register

Ta strona używa plików cookie w celu usprawnienia i ułatwienia dostępu do serwisu oraz prowadzenia danych statystycznych. Dalsze korzystanie z tej witryny oznacza akceptację tego stanu rzeczy.    Polityka Prywatności   
ROZUMIEM
1