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The Firebrands

Do not remove the hyphens. The stars were trekking on foot. All that was a mirage. A hot rood was leading to a watershed. The wholeness splatters on the bank. The water, takes all the dots and dashes. The black tree was stark naked. No leaves, no fruits. Only the singed wood. You cannot make the matchsticks. You will have to rub your hands to start the fire. Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2014




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things