Fusion

At the corner of State and Harrison

a tiny park stills,        the light darkens,

like a hall holding breath

before the conductor raises the baton

hurling thunderbolt into brick;       leaves

fall, syncopated,

in a burst of breeze, like

a choir’s ripple in turning the page.

The tabla beat of rain is percussion

in the hands of a fat Ganesha.

Stilling now

to adjust fleshy thighs and stomach,

wiping

a brow,

to begin,

again.

* * *

Dipika Mukherjee is a writer and sociolinguist. She made her debut as a novelist with the publication of Thunder Demons (2011), long-listed for the Man Asian Literary Prize. She lives in Chicago and teaches at Northwestern University.