It Was No MagicA Poem by Satish VermaWhen you would be absent, O Druid, I will know you better.
When you would be absent,
O Druid, I will know you better. Time leaps my watch― I have become blind. It was not enough to read― that was not written yet. I am coming down the mountain to meet the dust. Life was not very kind to me. Too much undoings had given me a white sheet to― write the names of fugitives. I sweep the floor, I wash the black earth and shut― the windows. Too much knowing had made me a dwarf. © 2016 Satish Verma |
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