It all happened quickly. I began praying to Krishna: a blue boy playing a flute to a herd of sheep on a green hill, a small boy with a peacock feather in his hair and beads around his neck, lotus in bloom almost everywhere. I was thirteen.
Brett Fletcher Lauer is the managing director of the Poetry Society of America and the poetry editor at A Public Space. His poems have appeared in American Poetry Review, Boston Review, jubilat, Tin House, and elsewhere.