You are like Quebracho!
I lie on the road. My earth was
cracking. The mushrooms started dancing.
I will wait for the
moonrise to negotiate with stampedes
outside the grand mausoleum.
Where will you keep
the cadavers known and unknown?
The cargo of words have to be unloaded.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 10th, 2021 19:24
- Category: Nature
- Views: 32
- Users favorite of this poem: Lauraš»
Offline)
Comments1
Satishverma,
Yes indeedā¦
where will we
ākeep the cadavers known
and unknown?ā
Lauraš»
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