The poet Anupama tried to say something

today, but all she found in her mouth were some stale

ashes. She is going to drink some water and turn on some

ragas. She’s hoping you are doing something like

this too to take away the ashes and fill your rooms

beauty, sounds.
 On that day ten years ago, she was feeding her son

applesauce for the first time when the tower was spewing

smoke. She bought a basket of Cortlands yesterday.

I think she’s going to make an apple pie.