Winter has stopped indulging.
Brown body of summer
longs for the full lips of moon.
I become saddened
tracking time.
Desire is now a temple
outraged by sun
starts a dialogue with winds.
Grey hills kill the songs
and empty life again fills in
the cargo of memories.
Silence is cool, ticks like a clock
breaks a stone
and melts into night.
I prepare to die again
amidst the disguises of fidelities.
* A Phrase from Les Murray.
Satish Verma
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: July 18th, 2013 22:04
- Category: Unclassified
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