Till This Day

by Satish Verma

Spare me a moment.
Can you anticipate the innocence
of tomorrow?

Someone wants to bare
her breast to protest
against the concept of black and white.

Tell me where the black ends
and white starts? The glass and
daffodils always go together.

The fake colors. I look at the
sky and start a monologue
with a yellow moon.

The smoke spoils the shore.
River engulfs the boat
and a definition drowns.

18-Apr-2013

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