She has come home to the fields of saffron

for she dreamt she walked between ridges,

scarf against familiar valley winds,

little again, in ribboned pigtails.

She has come home to the fields of saffron

—strangers indifferent to her adult form,

seasoned to forget decades-old scents,

designed, destined to move on.

She has come home to the fields of saffron

—purple nesting yellow and blood crimson;

oblivious to echoes of gunshots and sirens

she sleeps under a setting sun.

Published on October 1st, 2022

Tejaswinee Roychowdhury is a lawyer, writer, poet, and occasional artist and photographer from West Bengal, India. Find her tweeting @TejaswineeRC.