Issue 4 - March 2026 – Tanka prose 2
Suspended
first raindrop—
a millipede tightens
into a coil
the day holding its breath
before light opens
It was a time when we began to loosen our hold on fear. Under the open sky, everything felt worthy of attention. Even bleak days were lifted by wind and rain.
Our classroom breathed with the weather — latticed walls, thatched roof, grass mats beneath us, low study tables set apart.
Nestled in dense vegetation, the school was alive with small creatures. During monsoon classes we would sit dazed, rain sprinkling our faces and hands, watching water gather and slip through the frame of the wall.
at the lattice window
a millipede pauses
at my finger
something unfinished
in the sound of rain
Vaishnavi Ramaswamy, India
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