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BIOGRAPHY
POEMS
Satish Verma
June 5, 1935
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Fluting
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Time unleashed from ferrum
becomes pain
like a palm moon.
A tableau vivant was gliding
on the road.
It was a night of rage.
A frozen scene
undulates the history of fire
in the eyes of a flute.
Who was breaking
the clouds
wading in reeds?
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