TWO Poems
Manuela MOSER
Somewhere there
is a history of progress
is a history of progress
We were in America, we were on a trip and yet we were home and by home I mean that the bathroom was familiar
I remembered the green tiled walls and the dark wooden cabinet, I remembered moving the cabinet from our old home into this one
And there was a bar serving iced tea but you had to ask for lemon or wine if you preferred and almost everyone was there and I went to wake you
Because we were late but someone was watching you sleep and they said you weren’t late at all so I went out into the snow
And thought about running the goodwill store because the owner of the bar said it would be a good career move
I remembered the green tiled walls and the dark wooden cabinet, I remembered moving the cabinet from our old home into this one
And there was a bar serving iced tea but you had to ask for lemon or wine if you preferred and almost everyone was there and I went to wake you
Because we were late but someone was watching you sleep and they said you weren’t late at all so I went out into the snow
And thought about running the goodwill store because the owner of the bar said it would be a good career move
Nevertheless,
there was terror
there was terror
We are back in the same familiar place and my brother has turned from a tiger into a boy and yet for the first time ever he is not a tiger and we play with a ball of string
The forests are damp with mist and I am watching birds dive into the muddy sand to find worms and they’re chirruping and yes that sound
Down there on the beach is someone skipping over the rocks and when I look it’s him, the mist is heavier there
And he looks more like a tiger than ever before and yet completely a boy with knee high socks on, a child all at once
And what were we here for anyway? What had we come to find because it’s not here and neither is the ocean
The forests are damp with mist and I am watching birds dive into the muddy sand to find worms and they’re chirruping and yes that sound
Down there on the beach is someone skipping over the rocks and when I look it’s him, the mist is heavier there
And he looks more like a tiger than ever before and yet completely a boy with knee high socks on, a child all at once
And what were we here for anyway? What had we come to find because it’s not here and neither is the ocean
Manuela Moser is currently working on a PhD at Queen’s University, Belfast. Her poems have appeared in Poetry Ireland Review, Copper Nickel and The Tangerine.
She runs The Lifeboat press and reading series.
She runs The Lifeboat press and reading series.