Ashwini Vaidya

ADIEU

We sang beautiful
hymns in school, numbered 1-191
in a dim room

with a glossy floor.
I'd gaze outside often, and hear music
coming from the wind

that drove droplets along
the wires, where wet crows hunched.
Violins can draw

ghosts out of rooms.
Everyday rhythms become
crescendo. The memories

rush to your gullet,
filling it -- even while washing your hair
or watching cars from the balcony.

And you clamp nostalgia
like a mango pit between your teeth
woody and fragrant.

Location:	Bombay India
Email:	v_ashwini@hotmail.com
Occupation:	Student

- March 2002 - Dear Anna Sonnets in a Land of Prose Calling The Minnows Oxford Blue Ficus Aurea Playing it Back what we will plant unto the breech some more Ars Poetica Elegy For My Mother Standing Under a Street Lamp on the Corner of Brice Court Escaping the terrible fish Sadie song for stephanie it will always be the season of famine somewhere Adieu - John Turner's Best Of - the disgruntled women's chorus sings accompaniment on the beta male blues How to Build an Impossible Staircase Trying to Raise the Dead How to Kiss The Grassfires of the Resistance Rishikesh