Black Currants

satishverma

You do not want to reach―
where the journey ends.

Can you keep this secret
how do I harm myself in ecstasy?
Your shadow walks―
on the lake solemnly.

I want to talk of―
the broken musicality of black
veils. Do we need to touch
the tulips under the moon?

Big toes digging in wet
grass. Grieved, not getting there
where the sink hole appeared
let the hands tremble.

You freeze in the space
between the eyes. The groove
widens to suck the guilt
which never was.

A little finger points towards the sky.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: March 22nd, 2020 21:00
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 29
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors




To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.