Without Shelters Poem by Satish Verma
Without Shelters
Rating: ★5.0
Ahead of pain, certain
things are not to be printed on
the bronzed body of a ghost.
When you walk around
a bonfire, fireflies will come out
to make a garland.
I forget to script the rise
of a volcano in the chest of a
wandering truth.
Thursday, November 3, 2022
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7/25/2025 10:14:40 AM # 1.0.0
Profound, enigmatic words. Lovely poem.