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Pure As a Flame

Sleepwalking in unlit night, grabbing the moon, for a bite. Very difficult to chew the contradictions, to relieve the heartache. Endless drumming of woodpecker to mark territory. A war begins for insects. It was the Adam’s instinct. I will not fall on the burning coals. In a dewdrop you will see a miniature tree, shaping out for the sun. Satish Verma

Copyright © | Year Posted 2016




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Date: 12/5/2016 2:16:00 PM
- A very well written poem, Satish - // Anne-Lise :)
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