Song of the Wind Woman

Song of the Wind Woman


the sitar curls
like a wounded hydra
and sleeps
at the feet
of the wind woman

a dust storm
wounds
the silver astronomy of my bones

the calcutta skyline
morphs
into phantom camels

and the camels begin their exodus
on an atlas
of sand, coffins and hot comets.

-Heroine of earth and alchemy,
When did you awaken?

-I awoke with the end of the war.

On a dawn of soccer and gold eagles,
you may read
this poem
and wonder
what happened last night

what were the camels seeking
in the hot dust
of her throat,

what were the very last words
of the sitar,

and why was the storm curling
in the gold refuge
of her sari?