Vandana Parashar

can of sardines

the cat through the pet door

not ours

—Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

the sculptor 

stops chiselling god’s eye 

blinding sun 

—Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

rain-drenched motel

my hand-washed lingerie

on the towel rack

—Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

single again

my eyes raw and red

with pollen

—Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

twilit dusk

the city below nothing

but fireflies

—Vandana Parashar

Sunday choir

the gentle swaying

of bluebells

—Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

this life

and lives after that —

luggage carousel

—Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

betraying

all my coming and goings

unoiled hinges
 

Vandana Parashar

election flyer

cleaning dog poop

from my shoe

Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

living in the moment

a cloud becomes

rain

Vandana Parashar

wind through a crack

the flowers

arrange themselves

Vandana Parashar

night bus

every head rolled

to side

Vandana Parashar

the world without a word winter woods

Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

river’s regret

one wrong turn

years ago


Vandana Parashar

breast augmentation and the smallness of everything else

Vandana Parashar

 

 

my son’s drawing

every house has

a tree outside

Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

Indian market

all the vehicles parked

in no parking zone

Vandana Parashar

stirring a storm

in the puddle

strong wind


Vandana Parashar

Vandana Parashar

first day of school

every crying child in the bus

sounds like mine

Vandana Parashar

*

monsoon river unapologetically being herself

Vandana Parashar