Muttering
Miranda:
talk to your restive soul,
elementally abstract.
Home –
was minimal comfort,
for the flying birds.
Clock,
to explode today
on your face.
You were eying
the bride,
in turbulent sky.
Who had
brought the moon
at Agave’s feet ?
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2013
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