Summer Song It’s not yet too early for celebration, sunwashed in white light. Clouds strewn across the sky like milk blooming into coffee. She moves through the season with tickets in her hand, feathers around her neck. Flowers dot the ground like tiny stars. Men watch from above, as faceless as time, their breath constant and insistent like the wind. The duchess of watercolor and all her contradictions, no longer carrying the globe on her back. No longer fishing in the mountains of grief. She presses on, her gaze resolute and looking forward, as if the past is just a myth told by somebody else. Leela Srinivasan Leela Srinivasan is an MFA student at the Michener Center for Writers at the University of Texas at Austin. Originally from the Jersey Shore, she holds a BA in Psychology and MA in Communication from Stanford University, where she wrote and published a collection of psychological poetry as her undergraduate honors thesis. She currently lives in Austin, Texas.
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May 2025
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