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BIOGRAPHY
POEMS
Satish Verma
June 5, 1935
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Trinkets
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A spotless white moon
was hiding the―
ink spilled on the apron.
*
The pretty nouns
scramble for hope―
if there was any.
*
You could not undo―
what a rose―
did, in broad daylight.
*
A town lives
under a tree, in shade.
The ants come and go.
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