Poetry at Sangam
Poetry at Sangam showcases poetry in English and translations as well as essays on poetics and news of new releases.
I somehow knew that storm was meant for us:
those livid whites shivering the night sky
air dank, deep-lunged, convolvulus-
like, with thunder, then rain telescoped awry
along our streetlights. No drops but a fusillade
marshalling marine weather, crafting the wash
of a wake on the road. Slightly delayed
tricklings, acrid redolence in the hush
wrapped in that dark, where were we? Shadows dwarfed
yet tuned to a new thoughtfulness, wary
of so much – soil subsiding, the slipshod hoof:
reticent while the water receded
noticing this or that, our eucalyptus
foliage matted, some warning lights red and blue.