Theme: Life


You always repeat the moons 
in your eyes. 
I will not drop my lids. 

I was talking to myself 
about the perversity of skimming 
the sperm, throwing black rocks 
on milk white daisies - 
to protest against the fields 
not ploughed deeply and scattering 
the seeds in wild jungle. 

One day panther will die 
on his own, head down, 
swaying, leaning on one side 
and then collapsing. 

No pheromones will come out 
from the spent body.


More By  :  Satish Verma

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