Stoking

Do not want to 
be judged, after overplaying 
    my hand with clear moon.

            *

    Cancer was back 
and so were the strange remedies.
    Are you ready to become a crab ?

            *

    The beehive 
was empty. Honey is gone.
    My anger waning.


Satish Verma
Copyright © | Year Posted 2015

Poem

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