Sara Hallström

Five Poems by Sara Hallström

we can forgive much as long as
what they say has a kind of melody
in it A blood at the base that makes it
belong together, a more protracted, more
powerful bond A way of praying without
showing it, embedded in the mouth
Request a body to grow into
Request through the sounds that were buried
before the bodies, and the clothes
also need to be silent and cover tracks

*

pull up the various sticks, toss
them into the stream, find new ones, keep
asking: are the woods a dark or a light
voice were the eyes soiled
or not who resembles whom
on a meadow?

*

you hid yourself in hand and face so as
to clothe the skeleton with a kind of
resistance, porcelain, stacked cups
you practice getting the names to stay
on plastic, stone or mugs
Don't scream when you are
caught, let them stroke your
skin A ring of something a hole
of gold

*

you were not among those who were burning,
cannot be traced as someone who has
disappeared You move on through as though
you did not know what fires are or what sheen
and what marks they cast

*

clean shirt, soiled shirt, soaked
shirt, bloody A formula carries things
forward Language as a form of detergent, speech
as a smoothing iron, words from the breast
as a defense An army or a way
to kill Bacteria and time
the human suit of clothes

*

borrowing a diadem of plastic or
metal, prickly on the inside You comb
each strand with thoughts of
obligation Punishment is not the opposite
of forgiveness, it is revenge: re-
petition of a crime An outgrowth of hair
that looks the same each time,
shoves the new colors aside

translationcopyright©gordonwalmsley