Satish Verma

By candlelight 
crooked fingers drew a face 
on water for the sake 
of sun. 
Night will tell the fate 
of flame. 

Smothers with Magnolia’s 
There was an eerie silence 
near the alarm clock. 
Time to wake up. 

The flowers in the book 
will never read my story. 
A naked bird hops in a cage for, 
a parallel existence for another journey, 
meeting an intelligent end.

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