Lisel Mueller Poems
|1.||Sometimes, When the Light||4/30/2015|
|3.||For A Thirteenth Birthday||1/13/2003|
|4.||Five For Country Music||1/13/2003|
|8.||Reading The Brothers Grimm To Jenny||1/13/2003|
|10.||Why We Tell Stories||1/13/2003|
|13.||What The Dog Perhaps Hears||1/13/2003|
|15.||A Day Like Any Other||1/13/2003|
|16.||The Laughter Of Women||1/13/2003|
|18.||Monet Refuses The Operation||1/13/2003|
Monet Refuses The Operation
Doctor, you say there are no haloes
around the streetlights in Paris
and what I see is an aberration
caused by old age, an affliction.
I tell you it has taken me all my life
to arrive at the vision of gas lamps as angels,
to soften and blur and finally banish
the edges you regret I don't see,
to learn that the line I called the horizon
does not exist and sky and water,
so long apart, are the same state of being.
Fifty-four years before I could see
Rouen cathedral is built
of parallel shafts of sun,
and now you want to restore
my youthful errors: ...
1) I was born in a Free City, near the North Sea.
2) In the year of my birth, money was shredded into
confetti. A loaf of bread cost a million marks. Of
course I do not remember this.
3) Parents and grandparents hovered around me. The