‘November Walk on Election Day’ by Gabriella Attems
Aspen and spruce hold so much mist
they drip. Fallow deer throng
the undergrowth
like haggard soldiers not so long ago.
The track is a postcard they couldn’t
send: oak leaves in buff, grey, copper.
Songbirds gathered in pockets
of seed trees on steep slopes.
It is just as well they don’t remember
the displaced, corralled through here
not so long ago. Inside the plantation,
a wild boar trundles behind
douglas fir even though it will not
find its death today.
The valley’s a feather flight of raven.
Naked trees show their forms.
From issue #6: spring/summer 2018
About the Author
Gabriella Attems was born in Paris and currently lives in Vienna. She holds an MA in Comparative Literature. Her translations of Charles Bernstein were among the recipients of the City of Münster International Poetry Prize 2015. Her poems have appeared in PIR, PN Review and elsewhere.
