The Thumbai Flowers and 2 other poems
Memory, a silent cup, confronts patriarchal echoes, navigating grief and tenderness, rooted…
Read more →The pigeon, tricked by sky's reflection, struck glass. Its mute shock became a hunched silence.
The pigeon mistook the glass for the sky,
rocketing energy hit the window—
the shock was mute.
The bird
flopped on the terrazzo floor blue and polished to mirror the sky.
I looked down briefly from this poem to the flutter
abnormal.
Did not know
anything could be so silent in pain—
a hunched grey cloud.
Imploding cells patterned by hands unlike mine,
palm-sized god in every feather.