Postcard from Kashmir

Kashmir shrinks into my mailbox,

my home a neat four by six inches.

I always loved neatness. Now I hold

the half-inch Himalayas in my hand.

This is home. And this the closest

I’ll ever be to home. When I return,

the colors won’t be so brilliant,

the Jhelum’s waters so clean,

so ultramarine. My love

so overexposed.

And my memory will be a little

out of focus, it in

a giant negative, black

and white, still undeveloped.