Fluting
Time unleashed from ferrum
becomes pain
like a palm moon.
A tableau vivant was gliding
on the road.
It was a night of rage.
A frozen scene
undulates the history of fire
in the eyes of a flute.
Who was breaking
the clouds
wading in reeds ?
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2012
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment