A. Anupama
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…
What do butterflies say? If a child asked me that, I’d say “listen.” This past Sunday, my neighbor and I walked up the newly built section of trail that leads from Nyack Beach State Park to the Long Path, which climbs to the peak of Hook Mountain. We met a woman named Felicia, who teaches…
poet | artist 