Gronzy

by Rebecca Ruth Gould

The girl who invited me
to live in her tent camp
so she could teach me Chechen

sat staring in the corner,
fearing that any motion
might trigger an explosion.

Grozny’s flats were levelled.
Dolls lay disembowelled on the floor.
Glass shards covered the earth.

The road’s yellow ribbon rolled
like a carpet, limning the edge
of my escape to Vladikavkaz.

The siren song of battle
was an endless, plaintive moan.
Contraband, listened to by everyone.

___

Artist: Cedric H. Rudisill

Rebecca Ruth Gould’s poems and translations have appeared in Nimrod, Kenyon Review, Tin House, The Hudson Review, Waxwing, Wasafiri, and Poetry Wales. She translates from Persian, Russian, and Georgian, and has translated books such as After Tomorrow the Days Disappear: Ghazals and Other Poems of Hasan Sijzi of Delhi (Northwestern University Press, 2016) and The Death of Bagrat Zakharych and other Stories by Vazha-Pshavela (Paper & Ink, 2019). A Pushcart Prize nominee, she was a finalist for the Luminaire Award for Best Poetry (2017) and (with Kayvan Tahmasebian) for Lunch Ticket’s Gabo Prize (2017).

2 thoughts

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s