Japanese-American Farmhouse, California, 1942 Poem by Sharon Olds
Japanese-American Farmhouse, California, 1942
Everything has been taken that anyone
thought worth taking. The stairs are tilted,
scattered with sycamore leaves curled
like ammonites in inland rock.
Wood shows through the paint on the frame
and the door is open--an empty room,
sunlight on the floor. All that is left
on the porch is the hollow cylinder
of an Albert's Quick Oats cardboard box
and a sewing machine. Its extraterrestrial
head is bowed, its scrolled neck
glistens. I was born, that day, near there,
in wartime, of ignorant people.
Have to agree with Rita's comment. Made me feel as if I was secretly getting a glimpse of a place I was not supposed to be. A compelling write!
What the eye describes in images - becomes the resulting revelation. I feel as though I have intruded on someone else's property and witnessed something that I was not invited to see. So compelling!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/27/2024 8:43:18 PM # 1.0.0.1119
So much can be learned about the poet (poetess) from his or her poetry. You and I have much in common, Sharon. I was born not too many weeks before you were. I love every poem of yours that I have read so far.