Thursday, November 12, 2009

The Whistle, by Kathy Mangan

Ciprian Porumbescu - Ballad for Violin and Piano

You could whistle me home from anywhere
in the neighborhood; avenues away,
I’d pick out your clear, alternating pair
of notes, the signal to quit my child’s play
and run back to our house for supper,
or a Saturday trip to the hardware store.
Unthrottled, wavering in the upper
reaches, your trilled summons traveled farther
than our few blocks. I’ve learned too, how your heart’s
radius extends, though its beat
has stopped. Still, some days a sudden fear darts
through me, whether it’s my own city street
I hurry across, or at a corner in an unknown
town: the high, vacant air arrests me—where’s home?

from Poetry Foundation


Roxana said...


de ce plang?

Manuela said...

it's the darts of sudden fear? sau poate aerul gol.

impreuna cu tine.

sm said...

nice poem

manuela said...

it is a great poem, isn't it. i'm glad you liked it, sm - and glad for your visit, too!

kanishk said...

they are beautiful lines,

Work From Home

Manuela said...

i am glad you found something here that spoke to you, kanishk