Sawdust Trail

by Satish Verma

Leave me alone
amidst the daisies.
I have come to talk
to a quivering dandelion.

I must see. I must
count the teeth of the tiger
who had stopped killing
the bucks, but

there was death in the grass.

Cannot believe in
shadows moving behind the
moon. The space was
shrinking, and tongues were
very sharp, but -

there was death in the grass.

01-May-2013

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