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Remembering An Unknown
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Satish Verma The moon at the window
tonight, was like a dreamcatcher.
I am going to sleep in your charm.
Image builders were
becoming scarce. In your tempest
I will find my dustbath.
Amidst the sailing
swans, becoming a semi-recluse,
you wanted to write poetry.
Why don't you go back
to your home, O fairy?
Did I clip your wings?
Not for sale.How
far it was? My liberation
from the shadow of the lips?
Ashened, a fakir wanted
to give away his precious jewel
to an unknown star.
