Archive | 11:31 pm


9 Dec

I live in the Grand Canyon,

a chasm between

where I am and

where I want

to be;

A dry river bed that once

bubbled over with mirth, raindrops

and sparklings garnets along the

banks of the gentle Teesta.

We hang nets to dry, on

the ropes that gag us, and

strain skyward to remind ourselves

of how unforgiving blue can be.

Over on the other side, the

desert rocks moan

narratives of mothers, babes born tense,

and lesser wars.

Riding spider legs

on the long trudge home,

I am Ophelia, I am Atlas,

powder within, plaster without

and the best is night

when the walls mirror roof mirrors deep, deep heart

and we stand on a cliff

windless, sail-less, bending over