How Many Times

by Satish Verma   Dec 5, 2017


Sitting at a funeral;
in ashes, you search-
the faces of dead. To
shut down the apostrophes.

How far was your home,
you don’t want to
go back? A black moon
invites the tallest flare-

of the sun. Bright
death will ask no compensation.
You can travel over half-
memories of frozen pain.

Hourglass to Kundo clocks,
you were collecting all the
souvenirs to stall the
translations from coast to coast.

1


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Latest Comments

  • 6 years ago

    by Michael

    Satish

    Written in your true style, and a dark piece written of someone no doubt in your life.
    Michael :)