“Grasslands” by Ajay Sawant

Ajay Sawant


Over the end of fall 
the children were singing—
of earth frozen to ice
with albino rages, rhapsodic storms
and the scent of the last tomatoes 
of the harvest

The children’s throat parched
On the day of the circus
all the caged birds were lying dead
The pasture which once served
daisies to the heifers
was low with seed heads under blanket 
of warm dirt

While this will wed the trees
another ring,                   some
will stay asleep overlong
The pennons will place a burial
into a cotton ball 

We bury ourselves in blankets
with our people
Tonight in this freezing barn
I find more warmth            than
any other day

from Rattle #73, Fall 2021
Tribute to Indian Poets


Ajay Sawant: “I am an Indian student, editor, and artist brought up in Mumbai and Pune of Maharashtra. My poems oscillate between modern, post-colonial, and post-freedom times. Poetry is the strongest medium of expression. My poems come from my experiences and stories told by grandmothers, uncles, and grandfathers. The unique setting—with climate, culture, flora, and fauna—considerably influences and adds up to my writing style.” (web)

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