Satish Verma
AGE OF THE STRAW
Silently you went to disappear in blue-
alone or unalone -
I was watching a moth
on the burning lamp in night way
scrawled flat as death’s signature
on the heap of broken wings,
between space and time
an extra dimension,
the position of a point from void to
center of chaos,
life extracts the measurement,
a smile lost the lips
a vision, eyes –
outside body, the soul scribbles
mist and crumbs of age.
Satish Verma
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