Satish Verma
SUNFLOWERS
A preacher was shedding
dirty tears
for burning hills.
Pinned up on tongue
was a slogan.
Death for all sunflowers.
Draped in blood
who was trespassing
the sickle moon?
I cannot raise the mist
where you stand naked
in sunlight.
Somebody has killed
the pathological god.
I am starting a new kitchen.
Satish Verma
https://truml.com