Satish Verma
REMEMBERING
You shall read me
when I am gone
in green pain.
There had been gifts
unhanded.
Unwrap them in dark –
when moon was
yellow.
The beams will rub your body.
A bared stasis
will stop the fluids.
Wash your face with tears.
It seems a long time
when I touched your eyes.
My clouds would not find you.
Satish Verma
https://truml.com