Nightwalk

Leave a comment

March 21, 2021 by The Citron Review

by Vasantha Sambamurti

 

Be fond of what glows in the dark. The heladería (waffle cone, kind smiles for your Spanish) the corner store (PET milk, kind smiles for your Hindi).

Pass by a church that’s always dim, its Virgin Mary weeping old snow.  

The tree outside your apartment is a landmark; at its roots, an altar of bottle caps and gum wrappers. After it snows, the wrappers freeze straight like small men. 

The men keep watch when you unlock the door quickly at 2 AM. They whisper goodnight when you close the door, disinherit the cold, and leave them, melting.

 

Vasantha Sambamurti is a poet and prose writer pursuing an MFA at the University of Arkansas’ Program in Creative Writing and Translation. Their work is forthcoming in the minnesota review.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

Iranian citrus tree

Photo by Erfan Parhizi

Enter your email address to follow us and receive notifications of new issues by email.

%d bloggers like this: