Treasure Island

Satish Verma

(5-6-1935)

HUMBLING


I love you in poverty of
words;
when you are not seeking
anything.

A dusky strength, self-
deprecating,
holding forth the virtues of
self-denial.

What was the awareness of
a blind?
Of shadows of migrating birds
in moonlight?

Hold my extended arm. May
be you can fall,
looking without eyes in the depth
of the sea.

Submitted: Friday, May 02, 2014

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