![]() Standing StillA Poem by Satish Verma![]() The full moon was rising. November nght.![]()
The full moon was
rising. November nght. I throw away my walking stick. * A shiver runs through my thoughts. I had lost you in the thick fog. * The large fig tree. Had not tied the black thread round the big trunk? © 2017 Satish Verma |
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