Falling Crumbs

by Satish Verma   Feb 28, 2017


The things which did not brother you,
like crossing the crowd unspoken.
Long pauses between the questions,
halting silences between frenzied wails.

Flesh stayed untouched by hand,
center of controversies.
I still speak noiselessly, for urgent whispers,
time for exit has come.

The fog now deepens in eyes
and then a cloud bursts.
Trickling, when you bend backward
to wet the floor of grass,
which stiches the earth.

Winds will not expose the naked skeleton
consciousness now hiccupps
crumbs fall from the table.
It was not me
It was not me.

3


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Latest Comments

  • 7 years ago

    by shadow

    Love this!

  • 7 years ago

    by Ren

    An interesting and engaging poem with beautiful imagery! Wonderful job :)

  • 7 years ago

    by Ben Pickard

    Your poetry is wonderful in its translucency and never fails to impress me with its imagery.

    Nominated.

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