Sliver

The dog’s bark is a pillar of the night
Wrest it away and night may crumble.

A petite mosquito buzzes in my ears
Singing its music of the unreal kind

A sliver from my smoke of burning
Where we all burn in a  daily smoke.

A sleeping lizard on  a roof is a sliver
From my smoking life, from my roof

That tumbles without sleeping lizard.
Words are sliver from smoking nights

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About nisheedhi

Retired banker with poetry and photography as chief interests
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