NINTH MONTH

satishverma

Goose-stepping on a soul song 
you set the sky ablaze, 
and I was not ready to welcome you. 

I was hungry and I was thirsty 
but could not find the road. 
Back and forth, back and forth 

walking with the toad. You can guess 
my predicament when I said 
that, I am, not I would 

assult on the chaste fruit 
of the moon, growing on the 
tall tree of September.

Satish Verma

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: January 11th, 2011 22:25
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 21
  • Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
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