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Poems :  Sometimes
Tags: Life  
 
Under the denuded
chinars, I stand
again, waiting for you.

The hawks were
pining, for a prey-
in morning prayers.

The chrysanthemums
stand in a row-
opening their hands.

Sometimes you
trace the plum scent
coming from lover's grave.



Satish Verma

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satishverma
Author satishverma
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Date 2019/1/8 1:05:49
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