Poetry at Sangam

SangamHouse

 










Flowers

A dying-day lily
meets my slow breath.
The hard ground I’ve floundered on
is the same for this flower.
 
A luminous swan
flecked purple underneath its wings
flutters in the watery curls of grief
misting white the charcoal shadows.
 
Gauzy memories
quiver
spread wide like a float
soaked in the brine of an unforgiving sea.
 
Something mediates
between what is and what is not
a fragile firmament,
easing layers of rot.
 
Flowers are lessons in resilience
they die but never drown
their coral-tipped journeys
unsinkable
 
 
 
← Vinita Agrawal