What You Didn't Say

satishverma

When Rilke stops
whispering, I search
the cut flowers of gladioluses.

You don't speak
at all, blinking your eyes
anxiously. There was no
spate of quivering lips.

The exodus of long
breaths had the lethality.
Words come and go like,
a bunch of bees.

My problem was,
how to meet my beautiful
end.

The culture, the
wisdom would wait for
the angels.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 25th, 2023 19:38
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 14
  • Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors


Comments +

Comments1

  • Laura🌻

    Yes, Satish Verma…waiting for the Angels!
    As always, exceptional writing.

    Laura 🌻



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