Friday, 26 July 2013

Dream Poem

I was digging through some old files that I've been meaning to throw out since we moved from Walpole. Some of the material in the files dates back to my first year at Curtin Uni in 1993. I came upon this poem - attached to a story I wrote about my Russian grandmother in the first or second year of my PhD (1998-1999). I haven't changed punctuation or anything else. Here goes -

Dream Poem

I have a Russian cousin I didn’t know I had
Until I dreamed about her last night.
My Grandmother introduced us on the way to her death
She died in 1967.

I was wearing my grandmother’s slacks,
I found them in an old, battered brown suitcase.
Nobody knew she was going to die although she was ninety-two.

Grandmother was a secretive woman.
She recognised her slacks though, and laughed to see me wearing them.
that’s when she introduced me to my cousin Maria.

Maria is young, well, younger than me
and a migrant to Australia.

Maria was married twice in Russia.
The first time very young and for five years.
she tells me
“This husband liked entertainment too much”.

Second time, to Sergio, for twelve years.
“Same mistakes”
she tells me.

“No children”.
she tells me.

We sit together watching the lights beam down.
Dipping into the Swan.

She still flies in his private aircraft
she tells me
(but he doesn’t know).

There are documents I can’t read, written in Cyrillic.
Mysterious dream.

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