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by Satish Verma Apr 4, 2014 category : Nature, environment / nature
Pushed by troubled waters on the periphery; dream interrupted, you start coloring your nails differently. A white moon was not that white any more. You grow overnight gray, becoming older by decades. Gravel was going for a coup. Stones had upturned the river. Brutus, were you impeccable? I don't want to travel back to dark memories, of a raccoon drowning a little poor thing. Satish Verma