Tuesday, October 18, 2011

nest - claire gheerardyn

Nest
by Claire Gheerardyn

He said, When I arrived in Hungary,
a basket was my most precious possession,
a basket woven out of chestnut twigs,
a basket to be carried on my back.

In Hungary, he said,
I soon discovered that objects
have a life of their own.
That he who forgets his umbrella somewhere
also forgets a year of his life,
and that coat-hangers are ubiquitous.
That the wind takes your hat off
as if it were your head.

We both sipped our glass of yellow water.

And what was the life that your basket led?, I asked.
He softly smiled and said:
In Hungary, I would sit down at my desk
to invent bird names.
I would say the name aloud
and ask myself: ‘Can this bird really fly?’
If it couldn’t, then, I would just throw the name away.
But when it could,
I would very carefully lay the name of the bird
in the basket that I was carrying on my back.

1 comment:

Claire Gheerardyn said...

Hello, it's very flattering to be quoted on your blog, next to Emily Dickinson, Charles Simic, Ceslaw Milosz, and all the greatest. However, I feel very curious to know how you discovered my poem. Is there any chance that we know each other , or that we go to the same open mic places? I wonder how this blog works and who is in charge of it.

Claire Gheerardyn.

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