Animation

satishverma

The animal thing inside:
My half-brother,
was unsettling me.

Over the sunset I watch
the drawing procession
carrying the dead body of a tiger.

The light is fading. The stripes
were becoming a myth. The
guest was ready to depart.

I am holding the molten lava
in an urn. In the black sky
a satellite burns to undo the grief.

There is no death, no stopping.
A face pressed between the leaves
of a book smiles.

You come back to me in rains.
I call you by cinders dancing
in the mirror of whistling time.

  • Author: satishverma (Offline Offline)
  • Published: February 27th, 2016 23:25
  • Category: Nature
  • Views: 16
Get a free collection of Classic Poetry ↓

Receive the ebook in seconds 50 poems from 50 different authors




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