Treasure Island

Satish Verma

(5-6-1935)

Standing Still


The full moon was
rising. November nght.
I throw away my walking stick.

*

A shiver runs
through my thoughts.
I had lost you in the thick fog.

*

The large fig tree.
Had not tied the black thread
round the big trunk?

Submitted: Sunday, March 16, 2014
Edited: Tuesday, March 18, 2014

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