The Twelve Acres Of My Youth

Six months ago I planted
Geraniums on the terrace
And when I started
Pulling out the dead stalks
My fingers felt my childhood

Entire grounds of geraniums
On twelve acres of garden

Stubborn scent that I demand
And demand again of my fingers

But six months now
The acres
Of my childhood
Wither away



Sylvie M. Miller
Translated by Tatul Sonentz