Satish Verma

June 5, 1935
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Let The Sun Come Late

If you touch
slightly drunk moon,
at the sill of window, you will
alter the moon of November.

I wait for the earthquake to begin.

The carpenter had promised
to deliver the rocker tonight.

I will make friends
with dark room.

Your hands start shaking
holding a glass―
half-full.

Time to shut the doors.
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