Feeling Hot
It was middle noon
on the deserted street.
Nobody will come out
to greet the sun.
You will lift the fallen leaves
to soften the blow,
corrupting the morality
crouching in the shadow.
A slumber was needed
to get the head shaven.
Touching the dust,
the heat, the winds.
Dig a sinking hole
deep in the heart.
It will suck all your tears
all your salt.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2013
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment