A. Anupama
A rain like this slicks new leaves with a new, rapt memory. Do we call it memory when it is dripping onto our umbrellas? No, not until we recall participating in it. Really, we are indistinguishable from rain in memories. In my poetic practice this month, I've been reflecting on memory and forgetting, and the…
Startled from a swollen seedpod, they look up. We look up. Call it hope. A gesture captures attention far faster than an image. When a peace lily growing next to my kitchen window taps my friend on her shoulder as she’s getting a cup of punch, it’s like a poem just slapped my face. Call…
Everything in the heart is a burning device. Ovens, tiki torches, gas lighters, camp stoves, soldering tool, water heater, mosquito coil, hot glue gun, toaster. You know which your loved ones are. Device and desire are so close, when we are moving around in a piece of creative work. Using rhyme or a steady line,…
Counting syllables, counting on images to carry you, counting the stanzas in the back of your mind, counting on soul to show up in the lines. Do we count the number of fishermen laughing in January chill along the river while on our Sunday walk, and do we count on the river to carry away…
Indian necklaces are heavy in the way that the moon is heavy. When you wear one, you have to move steadily as Earth to avoid causing it to twist. The sweet glow of reflected light from its gold and gems, as everyone notices, is much more lovely than incandescence. The tidal effect in a room…
The way ice falls on us during winter holidays fills the imagination with shapes. Single-digit cold and drift-covered roads meant dangerous driving from home to hometown for me and many others this week. But I'm stubborn (as most poets inevitably must be). The pastoral mood exerted its irresistible pull, and we braved salted highways and…
It's a little bittersweet to think about how it is at the end of every semester — that mishmash of relief, pride, and sadness at wrapping up with a group of students. I'd be getting in the mood to grade a bunch of creative portfolios over the winter break if I were teaching. But I'm…
Waiting for my car at the dealership's service department this morning, I gaze at the flat-screen television in front of me, admiring a beautiful, crackling fire that should be framed by a magnificent fireplace. Yes, a little strange, but not in an unwelcome way. The Fireplace 4K experience erases some of the cold, alienating, new-car-smell,…
The curve of each line of each branch in each tree smiles at us. Clear, dark skies keep pouring heaps of stars into the lines. Silhouetted in the shrubs next to the road, several deer watch us pass by. Gratitude moves in all directions. I wish all poems were like this. It might take me…
Making art is a good way to get to know yourself and others, and it usually feels good. Sometimes not. Sometimes you can get in trouble, as my daughter did in her art class the other day when she was being less-than-cautious with scissors. She's in high school now and definitely knows better, but when…
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