Poetry

Nana – B.Z. Niditch

Russia is a nightmare
when America is full of dreams
Maxim of BZ Niditch

Nana with attention
to snapping peas
from hunger
finding themselves
in 1905
in a foreign market
resembling
nothing familiar
telling of your sorrow
to other tenants
with averted looks
hiding a few dollars
by the samovar
away from
the landlord’s wife
at the first
of the month
with the drowsiness
of exiles
yet with a fragile
solitude of hope.

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2 thoughts on “Nana – B.Z. Niditch

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