It is raining...


Birds have wings...

Flies buzz...

It is evening...

Grade Two

I go home...

Wellawatta Outdoor Bazaar


Amappa's Eyes


I reached out...

Evening Walk

Awakening shadow...

The Flight

A Robin's Bath

The Heron and the Swan

War on a Mango

Tea with Dadda

Granite Stone

Sigh with the wind...

Today, I have gone back...

About the Poet


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by Krisha Wignarajah

I reached out and plucked the moon from the sky and bit into its cool luminescence. My mouth filled with the celestial strain of harp. Then a glass of storm cloud to wash it all down and to douse the pale yellow light from the corners of my mouth.

Well, the tree that yielded to me its sap for curd — is gone and the fin from the last spawn is just sinking. The grass yellowed and then dried and crumbled into sand and we have run out of steel for bread — so what else is left to eat?

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Copyright 2005 by Krisha Wignarajah
Electronic edition, 2005. ISBN 1-896362-35-4
Print edition forthcoming. ISBN 1-896362-36-2