Night:
Transmission trembles
Little brother’s voice crackles
Over Oceans
His wife
Hemoglobin’s heaving
Each hour is critical
On my dresser
Two succulents
The hardiest of plants
Nestled in a vase
Left one looks limp
I make it lean
Against the upright right
Place them
Under my bedside lamp
In the light of which
I read and read and read
Gets tiring
But the bookmark doesn’t budge
Morning:
She’s still slumping
I break a bamboo skewer
Plant it in the vase
Tie it to the tremulous one
With a black thread
Evening:
Away from the skewer
Broken at a right angle
She lays listless
I gently pluck it out
Wipe off the soil
From its roots
Lay it on a paper towel
Sluiced
Not by water from the faucet
Sara Siddiqui Chansarkar is an Indian American. She was born in a middle-class family in India and will forever be indebted to her parents for educating her beyond their means. Her work has appeared in print and online. She is also Pushcart nominee for 2017.
The Cabinet of Heed 