Late summer breathed from earth and stones, Tall lupins probed the air, The Milky Way was combed-out light, The sheen off midnight's hair. I watched a long time in the yard The usual stars, the still And seemly planets, lantern-bright Above our darkened hill. And then a star that moved, I thought, And then it…
In those days, we were going places. But that Sunday afternoon we were becalmed. Sitting around a table, drinking and swapping stories. A party that'd been going on, and off, since Friday a year ago. Then Guy's wife was dropped in front of the apartment by her boy friend, and came upstairs. It's Guy's birthday,…
My family had moved to Hong Kong because Tak-nam, my older brother, was very sick. He had bad heart and lung problems, and we thought that Hong Kong, with its warm climate and ocean air, would help him. We lived in a cottage on top of a small hill overlooking a bay. The water was…
trans. Italian Ruth Feldman After an hour spent in the desert, I try to set down in writing everything that I have learned. When walking in the desert you have to keep your gaze on the ground all the time so as to study the position of each step; under your eyes you always have…
They waited all day for the sun to appear. Then, late in the afternoon, like a good prince, it showed itself for a few minutes. Blazing high over the benchland that lies at the foot of the peaks behind their borrowed house. Then the clouds were drawn once more. They were happy enough. But all…
Her journal was stolen. More correctly, her car was stolen and the journal was in the trunk in a tote bag. It happened three weeks ago, the day after she made the long drive from Portsmouth to Pennsylvania to spend Thanksgiving with her mother. She had just broken off a lingering love affair by changing…
trans. Italian Jonathan Galassi Don't ask us for the word to frame our shapeless spirit on all sides, and blaze it in letters of fire, to shine like a lost crocus in a dusty plain. Ah, the man who walks secure, a friend to others and himself, uncaring that high summer prints his shadow on…
trans. Czech David Young and author Those who were greening, they shall be turned to snow. Those who were about to fly shall fall asleep in the tar pits like the wolves of La Brea. Those who called out shall be turned to an exclamation point at the end of a declaratory sentence never spoken….
His father had died at Auschwitz in July of 1969, quite probably the only Jew to have done so in twenty-four years and unquestionably the only one who'd been flown from there from what seemed like halfway round the world to begin his trip to dust in the quiet earth of Mosstown. Not to mention…
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