09 February, 2010

MY FAMILY


Hibiscus large, as big as your face,
lots of them,
like a moon broken on a lake.
A bush,
I carry it on my lips.
 
I look at the world through this red lantern
in nightness of shooting stars
Had always faith in smiles, broad, spreading
showing pearls in a row.
 
Sometimes lunacy takes over
without a moon
to stay alive without you.
And I remember the greens,
green pain, elemental and behind the rage.
I did not want to go
to the razor sharp, heaven.
 
My privilege to glow in dark helps me
I did everything differently.
 
I am grieving for my last poems
my flares, my family.
 
 
 
SATISH VERMA

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