Grey Zones

a poem by Satish Verma, India

Turning a prayer wheel
to fire an arrow
towards your heart.

Let the veil slip from
your face- coming near the sun
ridding of the clouds.

Trees also can sing,
if you sit under them.
Was it a human way to
become a stone?

Talking to a candle
in windy night, I will ask-
if ever fever rises, will you
blow off?

Under the lips
some silver was spread.
It shows up only, when
eyes rain.

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