Monday, April 17, 2006

The Spirit Hovers Over

The morning sun comes over the balcony
and drying sarees laces itself through
the steam from my cup of tea

Quiet conversation and sounds of washing
Chipahti and elaichi on my tongue
curry in my hand

I am in India.
I am in answered prayer.
It surrounds me like the chudidar scarf,
up over my shoulders and down my back.

It adorns me like a bride for her groom.

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