first draft
Hero
Easy as this:
melting butter in a bowl, like this
bridge I’ve been meaning to photograph
and save in my notebook to write about
come morning.
Branches they hold me.
Make a dress of me,
Make me known
among clouds, and things
who make impressions in air,
who make ordinary things
extraordinary.
I’m looking for a hero.
To undo the blue robes of morning.
Make the […]

draft 1
Roads and unroads
India will not be for you and I, not now.
Robe the red of garlands,
close the winking eyes of the gods,
it’s not yours or mine now.
I am the queen of dirty water,
queen of copper arrows,
queen of the beloved’s hair shorn,
cover the faces of the gods
in the sorrow of milk, now.
Towers of cards, they […]