In memory of my parents
People whose lives have been shaped
by history—and it is always tragic—
do not want to talk about it,
would rather dance, give parties
on thrift-shop china. You feel
wonderful in their homes,
two leaky rooms, nests
they stowed inside their hearts
on the road into exile.
They know how to fix potato peelings
and apple cores so you smack your lips.
The words start over again
hold no terror for them.
Obediently they rise
and go with only a rucksack
or tote bag. If they weep,
it’s when you’re not looking.
To tame their nightmares, they choose
the most dazzling occupations,
swallow the flames in the sunset sky,
jump through burning hoops
in their elegant tiger suits.
Cover your eyes: there’s one
walking on a thread
thirty feet above us—
shivering points of light
leap across her body,
and she works without a net.
Lisel Mueller, “Virtuosi” from Alive Together: New and Selected Poems. Copyright © 1996 by Lisel Mueller.
Words for the Year 
Wonderful poem that seems to nicely fit into the Fourth of July and think back on past life.
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Glad you liked it James! It really does capture the move-forward and prosper notion of July 4th doesn’t it? I didn’t plan it, but sometimes it’s really cool how things work out that way.
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This poem opens a deep and moving understanding of the way people are able to move on with their lives even after being violently swept up and displaced by enormous historical events
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Yes. So wise. I thought this spoke to the pain so many of us are feeling. Sometimes the only way forward is just putting our heads down and putting one step in front of the other. Again. And again. And again. Life goes on.
Sent from my iPhone
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