Filling The Night

Every year the frogs get in our pool.
Each night, a grinding chorus,
throaty and pleasing, through the window
as night falls…[continue reading at Visitant Literary Journal]

 

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4 Comments

Filed under Filling The Night by Tai Woodville

4 responses to “Filling The Night

  1. Alissa Nielsen

    So lovely. One of my favorite Tai Carmen poems!

  2. karol beatty

    Great poem, what a gem Ursula is. She reminds me of my long-gone aunts with their amazing stories of Germany and that wonderful accent! You ended it perfectly.

    • Thank you!!! 🙂

      I actually took Ursula down because it was a new poem and I wasn’t sure about it, but because you’ve mentioned it so favorably, I’ll just post it here – a secret comments poem 😉


      Ursula

      by Tai Carmen

      Our next door neighbor has hair as white as bone,
      as fine as insects’ wings;
      the simplicity of shepherds
      and the shyness of schoolboys, his glasses, thick as ice cubes,
      making him look far away.

      He lives with his mother – oak-ancient, and gnome-small –
      who tells us — when she catches us getting the mail — about her time as a nurse
      in Nazi Germany;

      small bright eyes like currents burnt into the film of flesh,
      her hair finer and whiter than her son’s.

      Each month she says she’s dying —
      even held her own funeral last year, inviting everyone, saying,
      “I neva meesed a pahty.”

      She is probably the only person I will ever hear utter the phrase:
      “Zee van goot sing Heetla eva deed for me…”

      Standing in slippers and a bathrobe
      in the middle of the road she tells us how she was in school to be a dancer,
      when Hitler told her father — a high ranking general —
      that his daughter’s future would be better as a nurse. And she agrees,

      telling us –old mouth working overtime — how she once took a prisoner of war
      out on the town; giving him fresh clothes and sneaking him out
      to eat and dance and flirt and laugh and — who knows —
      maybe kiss in the moonlight, the world poised
      at the edge of destruction.

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