Night Theater Poem by Meena Alexander

Night Theater



Snails circle
A shed where a child was born.
She bled into straw—
Who can write this?
Under Arcturus,
Rubble of light:
We have no words
For what is happening—
Still language endures
Celan said
As he stood in a torn
Green coat
Shivering a little,
In a night theater, in Bremen.

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