Undoing
A thirst for moon,
on the mute, speechless, dark night.
Why now ?
Is this not the right to feel guilt and regret ?
When the snow was falling ?
Who is going to ask the questions ?
From the bloodthirsty bed
where the moon slept last night ?
Slowly the alienation melts.
You wanted to lead a normal life.
Sometimes a poem wakes?
in the body.
Was it a déjà vu ?
Bird-snow ?
Satish Verma
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