Saturday, July 26, 2008

Mairead Byrne's "The Russian Week"



We've been on the road, and sorry sick of it, but finally back in our nest. We were like nesting dolls, matryoshki, little mothers, giving birth to diminished versions of ourselves, nested in ourselves, wooden, painted with expressions, unable to move but moved by whatever moved us. So here, upon return, I come across dear Mairead's poem, which I'd heard some time ago, and it's grown, it's given birth to something else. Everyone has had these weeks.

2 comments:

So It Shall Be Written said...

Thanks Phil -- Beautiful poem. I love the math-esque edge to it. I'm glad you're nested again too. J. Ross

Philip Metres said...

Thanks Joseph--hope you're well. I'm so glad (always so glad) to return home.