13 april 2020

poetry

Satish Verma
Satish Verma

The Moon

Like a mole, she was
coming up, tunneling
with strong paws.
 
Indignant, of being called
by the name.
 
You need darkness, to show your brilliance.
 
The language of fear, at hair distance
where the horizon ends.
 
The reluctant lover
will not speak the mind, to act
alone was impossible.

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