YOUR SPACE
Poetry
Alpha Beta Gamma
A one-hundred-rupee note
was floating in the air over the
heads of running people.
The dust mark was expecting
a kiss. There would be a smooth descent.
A nipping future is unborn.
I cannot collect the words.
Lambda was rising. Alone in the rose garden
I set the butterflies free. Don't cut your wrist
A one-hundred-rupee note
was floating in the air over the
heads of running people.
The dust mark was expecting
a kiss. There would be a smooth descent.
A nipping future is unborn.
I cannot collect the words.
Lambda was rising. Alone in the rose garden
I set the butterflies free. Don't cut your wrist
Thought-provoking poem, Satish jee.
Padma,
Hyderabad,
Feb 01, 2022
Author
Satish Verma
kantasatish@gmail.com, Ajmer
Feb 01, 2022