I Will Write A Poem

He used to tread lightly as if
walking on concrete, barefoot―
to capture the apologetic
colours of rainbow in lake.

A spinning top, he wanted
to float on water and touch
the soft contours in depth―
wrestling with waves.

A dark sky was hovering
around. Something was rising
from the black hills, as if
on fire. I had never seen before―

the golden moon, rising. Two
song birds darting to and fro
as if in great agony to save
the nestlings from the lynx.

by Satish Verma

Comments (3)

Compassionate, lyrical - you've a great gift for touching my heart. Cold hearts, cold feet - ah, it made me shiver myself.
Yes, I agree Charles, it is disgusting the way some sections of society treat our seniors! They call them that in Canada I believe, I find it a much more respectful term than elderly or old person, Jesus Christ! we are all going to get there one day, they hold a wealth of knowledge and yet are assumed to be worthless as assets. You bring the issue to instant life with your title too. 10 pissed off kicks for our social attitudes today! Tai
Sad but you painted a true picture. Patricia