AscendancyA Poem by Satish VermaSeizing a chance in a trice, in one dark September
Seizing a chance in
a trice, in one dark September night of apotheoses- a bird crashed in my lap. I would not know the virginity of the strange surrender. The windows were tall, with the black laces violating the sovereignty of light. I will not know you, will not call the black magic, will not transcend the body. The white lilies were staring down at water. Was the dawn nearby? © 2017 Satish Verma |
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