Satish Verma
Something To Grieve
Facing an imminent
onslaught of apparitions, I
wanted an excuse,
to write a poem.
Staying raw,
in this dark, can I see your particle
face? Drop by drop you
moved away. Between –
you and me was a blue
lake. Shall I undo your
percussive existence, brutalizing
the wings, the peaks?
An Aryan pride? Why
not we walk back home
hand in hand, under the black
sky and a summer moon.
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