Please Speak to Me in Russian
I can’t find good in the grass
that moves through afternoon light.
No joy in the squirrels chasing each other
in the shade happy as seals.
I sit & stare at ants, weeds,
& an old station wagon. I can’t find
a place for them to fit into the world.
I’ve got sitting on the back porch blues.
“Who cares, screw it all,” I cry.
I hear an owl in the direction of the river,
a puppy crying down the street
& wonder why they don’t bring me joy.
Svetlana has a picture of a golden bird
from Russia. Right now, if I saw a golden by
bird with long bright plumes
like bananas, it might heal me.
I should phone, ask her to pronounce
golden bird in soft-tough Russian,
her native tongue. I want a golden bird
to lift me from all this sadness.
Note: I found this poem written in 1982 stored in a box
of old poems. That was 43 years ago! I added a title
and changed the lineation from long one-stanza to five quatrains.
and changed the lineation from long one-stanza to five quatrains.
13 thoughts on "Please Speak to Me in Russian"
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Whoops, there’s a typo in the fourth stanza. I type “by” next to golden which pretty much spoils the central image of the poem. Sigh. I was very early in the morning when I wrote this.😄
Linda, you are amazing.
and have been for a long time.
There are more. Going through the boxes as they come down the ladder is literally dumbfounding.
I found your report card from third grade so I will echo, ” please, please make sure this girl.keeps writing” stunned!
This is really good.
love the unexpected promise of hope in the golden bird “with long bright plumes/ like bananas” in this “back porch blues”
This is lovely. How cool to have the opportunity to hear from your younger self all these years later.
Lovely. There’s plenty of the mature Linda in this. And this Linda of the past will find her golden bird.
The building up of the scene, searching, evoking the blues, seeking respite in the animals.
Love the turning point:
“Right now, if I saw a golden by
bird with long bright plumes
like bananas, it might heal me.”
And in the end, as poets know, it is the ability to articulate a word (or a bird) in just the “write” way that can…lift us from sadness.
Such a tender poem. The first stanza with “the grass moves through afternoon light” grabbed me. I want to hear “golden bird” said in Russian now.
Stunning beginning:
“I can’t find good in the grass.”
Hear the pain:
“I can’t find/a place for them to fit into the world.”
Love the humor:
“sitting on the back porch blues.”
Ahhhh, yes:
“Right now, if I saw a golden
bird with long bright plumes
like bananas, it might heal me.”
And: What a lovely conveyance of youth wisdom to older self.
Back porch blues – ah, yes! Who has not experienced them? Amazing how long you have had your poetic gift, and it is still going strong. Bravo, sweet poet!
Svetlana and the Imperious Urge. My next poem. I love hearing you 43 years ago.
What a gift to find this and put it out in the world today!
I love seeing this era of Linda–and how modern it feels. You had the gift then–and you have it now.
Linda, what a stunning, tender poem. The title pulled me in and carried me through to the end.