Empty Dreams

After the civil war in temples
a wodden god
with broken nose, was walking
with a stick.

Half-way to home
he wanted to turn back
and meet his shadow
in the lake.

A mountain goat climbs
down the rocks to become
a martyr. Leaps into a dark
stream clinging to the veil.

A blue pine takes a bath
in the summer rain. A 
midnight moon will call the spirits
to dance for gamblers.


Satish Verma
Copyright © | Year Posted 2014

Poem

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