By on Apr 13, 2013 in Poetry

Night train with clay

In my bed, I am wrapped in stones
I hear a train blowing its whistle 

the middle of the night
I roll toward the train
                                   and it listens to me
                      the rails don’t list
                                   are straight as anything
the back of my head is toward the night-window
                                   as if the sky were its pillow
the hollow-reed sound of the expressway
                                                   fades away
                                   as if the river swallows it




Born in the United States and raised in rural Ohio, A. Anupama's experience as a first-generation Indian-American woman gives a unique perspective to her writing. She is currently an MFA student at Vermont College of Fine Arts and received her BA in biological sciences from Northwestern University. She has been involved with medical publishing for the American Academy of Orthopaedic Surgeons and legal publishing for the American Bar Association. An attendee of the Hudson Valley Writers’ Center fiction workshop with David Surface, She has worked with Ralph Angel, Leslie Ullman, and Jody Gladding, and has recently become a contributor to Número Cinq Magazine. She has brought her love of yoga, Indian cooking, science, photography, and nature to her poetry. Her work has appeared or is forthcoming in The Alembic, The Cape Rock, Diverse Voices Quarterly, Green Hills Literary Lantern, and Monkeybicycle. Her book, Kali Sutra Poems, was a semifinalist in the Annual Tupelo Press First/Second Book Award.