by Anuja Ghimire
three statues of gold skin sit in lotus position buddha in the center water flows on the metal a touch without the wetness we watch monkeys in trees creeper babies on mamas my child is a vine on me, too inside, a monk arranges ghee-filled earthen lights for the evening on the door carved generations ago leans another woman with a child his dusk colored face eyes closing in like the clouds the stupa is on a break in the rain and gods are on leave but the mother’s om rings the bells and strikes the incense in the sky ____
Nepal-born Anuja Ghimire writes poetry, flash fiction, and creative nonfiction. She is the author of Kathmandu (Unsolicited Press, 2020) and two poetry books in Nepali. A Best of the Net and Pushcart nominee, she works as a senior publisher in an online learning company. She reads poetry for Up the Staircase Quarterly and enjoys teaching poetry to children in summer camps. Her work found home in print and online journals and anthologies in Nepal, U.S., Canada, Australia, the U.K., Scotland, India, and Bangladesh. She lives near Dallas, Texas with her husband and two children.