One Rendezvous
Sweet grapes ? There was
no exit from the question
hour. You left the sky
for an answer, after a soul-search.
An appointment with unknown
scares you. It will not
work.It will not breathe.
They had taken away the gold
and left coal mines.The aliens.
You become outsider in your
own home. The time drips
on your unmooned face.
A middle low pain and a middle
low moan will prescribe a
valley of terracotta to make a
new road where you can walk straight.
Satish Verma
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
