Monsoon Magazine Vol.1.2., Pramila Venkateswaran

volume1.2

Pramila Venkateswaran

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RETURN
It seems like I left you yesterday;
how easily I step into mornings
stretching in the dust, watch shadows
lengthen and shorten until night
rifles my quiet.
Before this, life continued: Fish
colored pre-monsoon air, dogs nosed
hills of rubbish--bottles, papers, peels,
glass. You picked flowers in the garden.
String the beans and wash them, you say,
dropping lumps of jaggery to cooked gourd,
quelling what overwhelms like routine.
I notice rivers in your ivory hands holding time.

Pramila Venkateswaran teaches English and Women's Studies at Nassau Community College, New York. Her poems have appeared in Atlanta Review, The Kerf, GW Review, Ariel:A Review of International English Literature, Long Island Quarterly, and other journals. She also writes essays on gender and multicultural issues.

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