Against the Rocks
You were obliged
to watch the curse
on the caterpillar,
forced to fly.
It was a stunning spectacle.
The walnut tree scooping
to gather,
the gold of black berries.
Speak up my lord. Did you live
in the ghetto to know the
truth of thatched roofs ? Were
you afraid of huge mansions ?
It was not your heart; a
borrowed sample of imitiative
poetry. I will still go for
the rhythm of unspoken words.
Satish Verma
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