Rahana K. Ismail
Grandmother?
Her chilies and cherry tomatoes don’t grow this year. Her Amaranth leaves close before they open veins. Curry leaves grow moth larvae, spent in two hungry days. It’s just the bean vines which grow and grow and grow, clawing on discarded golf sticks, clambering onto the rusting tricycle handle and still don’t sprout beans.
rusted air— old moccasins in her prayers
About the Author
Rahana K Ismail is a poet and a doctor from Calicut, Kerala. Her work has been featured or forthcoming in nether Quarterly, Usawa Literary Review, Verse of Silence, EKL Review, the Chakkar, Alipore Post, Pine Cone Review, and elsewhere.
This is so beautifully evocative! Of the past, longing, nostalgia, loss…