What the River Keeps
Kettle
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i folded the evening into a paper boat
and set it on the water at Shahdara.
it did not sink. it did not float away.
it turned, once, the way you turned
at the station, as if to say something,
and then it did not say it.
How did it leave you?Your reaction helps Noor Fatima know what landed.
fog on the Ravi bridge in December:the far bank is a rumour,the rickshaws arrive out of nothing,bells first, then headlights, then men.this is how I remember my father.bells first.
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