Reviewed by Teresa Williams In the aftermath of trauma and displacement, how does one become at home in the world and within themselves? Rooja
I pray to the spilled dust in those ancient libraries where I blinked and squinted as I shed wishes from rows lining my eyelids.
Two nights ago, as I walked at dusk in my front yard by the low brick wall flanked by two Chinese lanterns, my art
Amid semi-tilled garden plots, rectangles of possibility, however mute, hard, weedy and dried out, seeded with stones, spreading across twenty acres of land, there