Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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A Day Was Crying

Can you define this relationship?

In a tumultuous city
I was missing…
But in this absence I become whole.
A chemical clock becomes awry.

Night was my poem
I was writing for the moon
and throwing a handful of dust
to meet the dust.

Black flamingo will not
eat tonight. Wading through the
water, its will broken,
searching the pink eyes.

How do I catch you when
you have flown away?
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