Logic of the Woods

At the end of 2021, I let go of a lot of things; most of them unwillingly. I let go of the hope that I could see my father again. I let go of a job, and in the process, a lifelong dream. I let go of certain deeply held beliefs. In struggling to let go of these, I wrote poetry.

Pen and paper do not judge you if you feel dread towards the relentless cockroaches in the apartment or for your fleeting feelings. Poetry does not frown at your life crisis in the laundry room, your conversations wit...