Covered With Quills

Satish Verma

This paper lantern in lake 
was in love with you. 
The water oscillating, 
not the taper. 

The panelled remains of― 
walls still hold, 
your signs. You would not 
come back? 

Apparitions gather― 
to bid goodbye to the moon. 
A flame of the forest 
was due any moment.

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