The EnablerA Poem by Satish VermaYou come to me formless, to claim your dues―
You come to me formless,
to claim your dues― of whispering poems. At sharp cliff, what was your dream― destiny of taking a long fall? The rising smoke dissolves the boundaries, when you fondle the dark for some pulse. The final gift arrives of tears, within reach of the implosion. Along the boulevard a flight of swans― sails for another lake. I lift my hand for final salute. © 2019 Satish Verma |
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