27 January, 2017

Overnight

Unstitch my memories,
I have come home,

My bag was full of worries.
How will I spread my age?

An old man reading the palms―
cannot find the glasses.

After a mutiny, nothing was
left of a hissing pyramid.

Tell me the shape of tomorrow
to come. In dark I have
to bury my name.

Satish Verma

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