Author Lena Jayyusi In the air that limps between seashells ... tatters of a slain bird, the fishes of sailors who will not return. Air of fragrances: an Indian woman brushing her hair beneath the washline, lobsters smoking on the grill ā and this damp shirt. Tags Short Poems Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments