Substance; Scale

An Arab Spring
A summer of superheroes
what now of winters

hints of itinerant
nations, their
nomadic tailwinds

Losing time soon
every day hides heroes
with a million faces.

_

Chelli (Baby Sister)

There's a bridge
the color of steam,
made of years
of shared bedrooms
between us.

They're your parents too,
she acknowledges.
i guess it's ok--
if they... want to
spend some time with you

_

(Grand)parents are here!

What we know:
That already my American spouse and kids speak 100% more Telugu.
***
What we knew:
Having weathered several other neurotic pre-parent arrival prep periods, Big A knew not to ask why I would need to give myself a facial and paint my toenails before my parents arrived. (Nevermind that they used to see me in full-on acne cream and in a previous era, diapers. Or indeed, that a few months from now, my toenail polish will be undeniably chipped.)
***
What we know now:
That the seven-seater hybrid we got in order to accommodate the six people who will live under the same roof would need to be run regularly. (It turns out that the only way to protect the earth while driving a big car is to drive it more than you want to.) So minutes before we needed to leave for the airport to pick grandparents up we needed to call AAA to jumpstart our car.
***
And YAY! They're here!!

_

Can you spot the toddler?

If you can, you're *obviously* not playing the game properly.

_

Street Fair

Crowds happen, conquer: insurgent,
choric in cheer, sucking sweetness
from sun-slicked haze.
I am astride Xenia Ave
kids in hand, hands so sweaty
their fingers slip, tickle in my grasp

Hellos + kisses fall, leave, re-echo
become a bouquet of belonging
I carry proudly down the street
I am strident;
I am mouthy, masticating,
planting gum for art.

I am completely klepto
with happiness
I'm making my own megaphone
I am become a landmark:
"I am standing
right next to the lady with two kids."

Our dinners slumber in styrofoam,
our water bottle empties to carry lassi.
Fun has been buying a foam-tipped bow
filling a plastic fish with colored sand
and the roar of laughter and trash trucks
after a thousand minivans vanish

_

End Day

And at the bottom
are hopes
spooling love
as a courtesy

say I am
say I am
history senses quiet
as the clock is spent

_

Thithi

Give back the words
give back
bring back the calls

call the hungry raven
to eat food
made for grandfather

the flicker of long ago
words echo
in my eyes

_