daybreak stretches, seeps into corners.
plump mandarin sun, organza sky.

ants scuttle from empty tin. fresh rotis
wrapped in aluminum foil, mango pickle,

dahl, cardamom-laced chai, peeling metal
lunch box. yesterday’s clothes stained

from berries, fatigue. brown hands now red
open the door, fly towards the field.

©  

Moni Brar is an uninvited settler on unsurrendered territories of the Treaty 7 region and Syilx Okanagan Nation. Her writing explores diasporan guilt, cultural identities, religious violence, and intergenerational trauma. Her most recent work is forthcoming in Passages North, Prairie Fire, Vallum, Hart House Review, and The Avalon Literary Review. She has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize and an AMPA award, and shortlisted in poetry contests by PRISM, Arc, FreeFall, and Vallum. She believes in the possibility of healing through literature.