Morning and Evening in Khajuraho
by Hannah Star Rogers
My brother is vomiting again,
and there is nothing
to be done about it.
So we abandon our train
and I call the front desk
for more ice and more towels
But that night,
we float in a great blue pool,
and bats rustle in nearby trees
and fly overhead to parts unknown
like they once did
for the Raj’s swimming daughters,
like they will do again
when we are gone.
IMAGE: “Endless Water Mandala” by Maria Karki. Prints available at fineartamerica.com.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: This poem is about a pool in India that my brother and I visited on a trip after college.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Hannah Star Rogers grew up in rural Alabama and received her Ph.D. at Cornell University. She teaches at Columbia University and the University of Virginia. Her poems and reviews have appeared in The Los Angeles Review of Books, Tupelo Quarterly, The Carolina Quarterly, and The Southern Women’s Review. She has received the Djerassi Artist Residency in Woodside, California, both the Everglades and Acadia National Park Service writing residencies, and the ArtHub International Artist Residency in Kingman, Arizona.