PULSATING

satishverma

In the cavernous mind 
a thought becomes 
redundant. 
You go straight for a snakeroot. 

A flat cluster of white flowers 
spurs a stigma 
at the white moon 
for floating rumors. 

This was my native pain 
of brilliant tapestry. 
The threads had a weaver’s knot 
of rare beliefs.

Satish Verma

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 2nd, 2011 22:13
  • Category: Unclassified
  • Views: 21
  • Users favorite of this poem: Cheeky Missy
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