From my dedicated poetry shelf today’s selection, The Nights Also by Anna Swanson.
Without judgment or censorship, shared here with you, random poem, “Lullaby for small” at page 15.
Dedicated to Diana.
After you’ve read this poem, I’d love to hear what you think about it, your reactions, what feelings or memories the piece evoked.
LULLABY FOR SMALL
What do I know of the world these days?
This room, the merciful windows
and whatever weather hits them. The world is
this: the eagles calling out into the sleepless night,
and me, small enough to fit in a coat pocket.
There is a box I keep on the table by my bed.
A box just large enough for all the doctors’
perfect remedies. The eagles call out into the night,
the falling notes of their cries like ripples around a pebble,
which has disappeared into dark water.
At five, a peacock walks the ledge
outside my bedroom window. The light
begins so slowly. And me, curled in my bed,
small enough to fit in a coat pocket.
I have worn out my anger, and there is not much
of me left. I want the backseat
of our old orange Datsun. I want my father
to carry me in. I swore I’d never get too big.
sleep, baby, sleep. All the old songs.
Thy father tend the sheep. I want
shhhhh.
The falling notes like ripples. The pebble.
The dark water closing around it.
Publisher: Tightrope Books
ISBN: 978-1-926639-13-0
2 comments
25 August 2015 at 10:31 am
Diana Cawfield
Cheryl, thank you for the thoughtful dedication, and for introducing me to this remarkable poet. Swanson’s work is both a comfort and an inspiration to me.
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25 August 2015 at 11:12 am
Cheryl
So pleased you like her stuff, Diana!
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