Individual Voices / Natural Forms

Winter, 2006

Louise Nayer

Dream of the Uninterrupted Moss

I remember holding on to words
spoken in cafes now closed to us. 

The words live inside
my blue delft breakfast plate

along the river Ijissle
in the white chrysanthemums 

in the peculiar innocence
of chaos. 

In a little tin are my last cookies. 

Next door a boy is born
and lives in a drawer. 

My paper supplies dwindle,
but I could give up words. 

The sky is always ours,
even though we are crowded together. 

Someday, I will walk across the world. 


-----For Anne Frank and Etty Hillesum