something that is difficult to translate (poem)


Samara Parmett

The three poems, something that is difficult to translate, the intrigue of being, and Acid Rain, were all written during different periods of my life over the past year. The first is the most recent, configured towards the end of July while sitting in a Bard College classroom surrounded by fellow student writers. We had just come in from outside, where we had been sitting alone among the trees, finding peace in the grass. Bird Berries – I later found were already named that – are any berries that the birds eat, and they’re usually poisonous to humans. They come in red, blue, yellow, orange, and black, and I’ve even seen them in New York City – so look around next time you’re walking down the street! The next poem was written in the confines of my bedroom. I was hoping to ground myself by imagining something soothing when I remembered this abandoned train rail that runs through the forest, edging on the West River that cuts through Vermont. I’ve been there multiple times, but never for long enough to have photographed the place, or even have a clear picture in my mind. This poem was an attempt to piece together the feeling of being there, alone. Finally, Acid Rain was a short poem written last school year, during a time when nothing was going my way and I felt that nobody cared enough to listen. Writing has always been a secret act for me, I’ve never felt the need to share my work because it’s written for myself – not anyone else. I hope you like the poems, and I’m always open to feedback, but it’s also alright if you don’t.