They swim like tadpoles.
Thoughts!
I was waiting at the far end of pond.
Heartburn increases at dusk,
fierce battle of blazing stripes
on blankets.
On the scarlet face
a bridge was burning
in wide open eyes.
Somebody takes an aim
hauling a runaway bruise.
Blood comes out roaring.
Weep, my stars,
ice was thin –
drowning the lake.
Satish Verma
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