Wrapped In Stigma
The heritage
went for a sale. A tree
stands denuded, after
a nudie.
An orange land hides
the broken remains of terra
cota. I wanted an earthen
inkpot and a reed pen.
There was a wounded word
on the tongue. A
dragonfly leaves the voracious
appetite and skims on milk.
Pulsating cleavage
gets a prize. The salt lakes
are full. A caged bird
will not sing.
Satish Verma
Copyright © Satish Verma | Year Posted 2016
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