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A Quarterly Journal
Jeffrey Woodward, Founder & General Editor
Volume 10, Number 2, June 2016


Yesha Shah
Gujarat, India


The Pink Trumpets are blossoming abundantly in bunches through the lane and the cool spring breeze ensures a steady drizzle of flowers. I sit under them and watch the kids play.

My little one holds a blue nib-pencil in his hand. It is a return gift from the birthday party last evening. The pencil’s cap, shaped as the face of Mickey Mouse, slides to reveal a small round mirror. Time and again he checks his cherubic face in that mirror, blinking.

He stumbles from the swing and the mirror breaks. I expect him to get teary. But he points to the Made In China inscription and explains to me that such things are not meant to last.

musty attic . . .
coming to terms
with transiency

just between us . . .
the blue-black bruises
of a cousin



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