Details |
Inga Piotrowska Poem
My school was named after Nicolaus Copernicus,
and the teachers asked us to sing songs about him
halting the Sun and moving the Earth.
But I could not imagine anybody with arms that long
and realized I know nothing about the world.
Jesus was a God and Jesus said that
“there will be signs in the sun, moon, and stars”
and “people will faint from terror,” and
I was one of these people afraid that Copernicus
Changes his mind and pushes the Sun on us.
And this is how the life of a little 7-year-old would have ended,
Crashed in Copernicus’ huge hands, melted, evaporated.
But instead, she lived on to write about the world she grew to know.
The world of constant uncertainties, unrecyclable plastics, and bad pop songs.
The world that forgot that Copernicus’ hands are long enough to smash it.
Copyright © Inga Piotrowska | Year Posted 2021
|
Details |
Inga Piotrowska Poem
I don’t like it when it’s snowing because I leave traces
so they know where I’m going and they chase me
they want to see whether I follow the light or the shadows
so I blind them, scratch their eyes out
But then they hear me, they hear creaking
so I run, I can’t give up that quick
I hide behind the leafless trees trying not to breathe
My feet hurt from the cold.
They want to know my dreams, my lovers
and all the secrets hidden behind wardrobes.
These monsters creeping from under my bed
keep asking “quo vadis?” while I pray for the snow to melt.
Winter is chasing me and with it are coming
the unanswered questions of sleepless nights:
Who are you, where are you going?
I stand still, breathless.
Waiting for Spring.
Copyright © Inga Piotrowska | Year Posted 2021
|