It is raining...
Birds have wings...
It is evening...
I go home...
Wellawatta Outdoor Bazaar
I reached out...
A Robin's Bath
The Heron and the Swan
War on a Mango
Tea with Dadda
Sigh with the wind...
Today, I have gone back...
About the Poet
Friday Circle Home
by Krisha Wignarajah
Today, I have gone back to where the waves come in gentle folds. They break at my feet and explode into foam. The wet sand holds onto my footprints — little dug outs that are soon filled with clear salty water.
Far from shore, waves move sideways. Only their lips peak from the purple water. The ship that traces the crescent, haloed in red, can rescue me but it is too far to reach.
Two thin coconut trees criss-cross behind me, they are tired of waiting to bear fruit. They let their drying branches droop, branches brown as my arms. Their fronds draw fly away stripes in the sand.
A wind blows from the sea, rushing a wave towards me. The large roll quickly swoops to a sly lap.
What if I were to stay to see the end? But I am pushed back by the wave to the one who is sitting on the verandah and hemming my skirt with pursed lips, in the dimming light.
Copyright © 2005 by Krisha Wignarajah
Electronic edition, 2005. ISBN 1-896362-35-4
Print edition forthcoming. ISBN 1-896362-36-2