ANNE STEWART

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You learned to read, long before you were aware,
those signs that said you should shut down and listen –
only for a sigh, a tut; a warning to avoid the Sykesean glare
that held you guilty, traitorous and unforgiven.

She was deliberate, trying always to be fair,
judging your successes with a measure of suspicion;
good behaviour warranting good fortune being rare
with you so wilful – so arrogant and self-permitting.

You came to recognise the rustle of a collar under hair;
to know that pursed lips can have no thought of kissing.
How fear of losing tries to trip each step you dare
along the rope and timber bridge of what is missing.

Ana Maria Nicoleta Mitrofan

Anne Stewart
 

Pe podul cunoasterii

Ai invatat sa citesti cu mult inainte de a fi constientizat
Acele semne care spuneau ca ar trebui sa taci s-asculti
Macar un oftat, un refuz, de privirea de hot sa te feresti fiind atentionat
Chiar vina, tradarea si condamnarea la neiertare dezvaluindu-ti

Ea facea totul intentionat , incercand intotdeauna sa fie corecta
Apreciendu-ti succesele cu o urma de incertitudine
Buna conduita fiind zalog ca bauna sansa chiar e rara
Pentru tine asa de incapatanat -atat de arrogant si ingaduitor cu tine

Ai ajuns sa sesizezi zgomotul parului la atingerea gulerului
Sa intelegi ca buzele tuguiate nu au intentia de a saruta
Cum teama de esec piedica –ti pune pasului
Pe podul din sfoara si lemn al lucrurilor inca nestiute.