satishverma

Remembering An Unknown

The moon at the window 
tonight, was like a dreamcatcher. 
I am going to sleep in your charm. 

Image builders were 
becoming scarce. In your tempest 
I will find my dustbath. 

Amidst the sailing 
swans, becoming a semi-recluse, 
you wanted to write poetry. 

Why don\'t you go back 
to your home, O fairy? 
Did I clip your wings? 

Not for sale.How 
far it was? My liberation 
from the shadow of the lips? 

Ashened, a fakir wanted 
to give away his precious jewel 
to an unknown star.