Imperilment

Imperilment

A Poem by Satish Verma
"

The interstellar reticence, becomes the

"
The interstellar 
reticence, becomes the 
muse of a storm. 



Departure begins, 
when the lights are dimmed. 
Night licks the moon. 



Now, you can 
roll up the stings. 
Cadaver will not rise. 



The bell rings― 
for the last exhibit. 
Moths were waiting.

© 2019 Satish Verma


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Added on April 30, 2019
Last Updated on April 30, 2019
Tags: reticence