Satish Verma
Reconciled
A visible evil stands
upright. I did not want to
die before the death.
My needs were small and few
but I am at peace, breaking
water without shaming the earth.
I will now make a moon
out of the mystery of mass cremation
of rose buds.
The small recess of the soul
mends the wall of the flesh to become
a stable house.
The black crypt, maintains
a secret. Here lived a wounded
soldier once upon a time.
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