Short Acacias Poems

A frog overhead 
the blossom acacias ?
only a kite.......

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When the sun goes down bleeding
beyond the hills yonder,
I will meet you under
the acacias.

As a souvenir I will keep
your lips in my books for history.
As a gift I will give you
my tears. 

This desert of hate has bleached
my fingers, bone white.
I cannot write a monologue
of death in waning light.

I wake to sleep in blasts.
My palms hold out the great silence.


Satish Verma...

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Our love isn’t at ease,
just like the wind in white acacias
and like a bead on child’s hand,
it’s not at ease.
In it they miss – wonderlands,
delights, flame and solace.
And none of us will call it my own
before it passes us on slightly.
And it will stay somewhere – far away,
unapproachable, uneasy.
And yellow leaves will whisper in snows.

Our love isn’t at ease.
It isn’t at ease....

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