Order this writing in the collection book Layers of Creation available for only 1795 |
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This appears in a pre-2010 issue
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Snow
Ashok Niyogi
everything was meticulously painted white
fir rock peak valley brook
abandoned hunter hunted
homeless pebbles with rucksacks
half dead in the snow
tires had to have on chains
to better grip
we thought “we are beggars
we have nothing to lose
in this whiteness we can cry out
taut with strange words”
a supplication
“deliver us from this incredibly beautiful white
that chokes the breath
blinds the eyes”
and whispers “this is it
sleep sleep
there is nothing beyond”
and all the while
beyond the storm line
the whole of America lies spread