Thursday, February 25, 2016

Poem from Amy Koppelman

MR COGITO THINKS OF RETURNING 
TO THE CITY WHERE HE WAS BORN
by Zbigniew Herbert


If I went back there
probably I wouldn’t find
even a shadow from my house
nor the trees of childhood
not the cross with an iron plate
the bench where I whispered incantations
chestnuts and blood
nor a single thing that is ours
all that was saved
is a flagstone
with a circle drawn in chalk
I stand in the centre
on one leg
the moment before jumping
I cannot grow up
although years go by
and planets and wars
roar above
I stand in the centre
motionless as a statue
on a single leg
before the leap to finality
the circle of chalk turns red
like old blood
while all around
piles of ash are growing
up to my shoulders
up to my mouth
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Tuesday, February 9, 2016

Our Little Library 2016

These are books that we previously featured on our Bookshelf page.
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