Satish Verma Writing

Even a lizard― stops and looks

In the moment of reckoning or nemesis, I call you

I was badly shaken― by the strange

Shame of centuries, you wanted to erase.

In transition, of a starry namesake, holding hand―

Collecting more luggage while moving on.

A truth a day was not sufficient.

What organicity! Moon was coming down

Trap unplugged, There was a hairy assault,

Asking for privacy, a green snake becomes deviant,

150

Compartment 114
Compartment 114

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