Flying Woes

Flying Woes

A Poem by Satish Verma
"

The cat was finally dead.

"
The cat was finally 
dead. 
After a professional cut. 

An infant injury 
of the cadaver, will not speak 

of the dead river, of elegy. 

No life- 
after the rite of passage. 
You are confined in a coffin 
buried in ice- 
in north and south. 

The space shrinks 
between the screams. 
A syncope overshadows the moon. 
The howling starts.

© 2019 Satish Verma


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Added on January 28, 2019
Last Updated on January 28, 2019
Tags: finally