‘Will I find the solace tree
‘neath which
I can curl up like a mongrel
for a slumber?’
In October Sun, Nadia Jesmine Rahman gathers the shifting seasons of life—its griefs, its soft astonishments, its quiet rebellions and turns them into luminous, intimate verse.
Moving through childhood alleys, rain-soaked cities, ancestral silences, and the tender spaces of love, these poems hold the world gently. Here, the world is made of little things—a fallen leaf, a mongrel’s wail, the hum of a prayer, a pressed flower, a whisper of spring.
With a voice both vulnerable and bold, Nadia writes of losing and finding oneself, of homes carried inside the body, and of the stubborn ways hope returns.
A collection for anyone who has ever longed, healed, or bloomed again.