By Andrea Ferrari Kristeller
April 15, 2023
April 15, 2023
On this night starred with worries
and snail trails of future loss
We stand, my plants and I,
together like friends grouped by the dance
The smell of a spring that will not falter
speaks of time
You seem to know how this hill stood
before the gardens, the chimneys, the children
in swings and afternoon laughter
You speak of landslides, river winds
of curving muds even before
You foretell a scattering of pots
when this house is no longer
the slow decent into wetland and swamp,
the river then a sea
We are birds flocking together for a night
I may detail how the small stripped cocoon
the minute mushroom, the water hanging from you
on the edges will not hold
we will not hold
so, I sing you songs like the poets of old
on how you were beautiful and I loved you,
for just some turns of the moon
on how we shared a porch and a forest
and huddled together between landslides.
Andrea Ferrari Kristeller is an Argentinean teacher, writer, and naturalist (who knows in which order).
She intermingles her teaching practice with volunteer translation work for conservation programmes, and has participated in the building of the First Mbyá-Guaraní/Spanish- Spanish Mbyá Guaraní Dictionary (Rodas/Benitez, 2018) in its Penta translator section, for the English language. She is learning Mbyá Guaraní and translating their sacred text, the Ayvu Rapyta, into English.
Some of her poems have been published by The Avocet, The Dawntreader, Erbacce, ASEI Arts II anthology, Flight of a Feather anthology, Poetry Undressed, Braided Way, The Poppy Road Review, and The Heimat Review. Her nouvelle, “The Land without You,” was given an Honourable mention at Writers of the Future contest, 2018. Her short story, “The Ghost at the Whites’ Hoté,” has recently been published in the anthology Haus, by Culture Cult magazine; “Her turning into a forest” by the magazine Globally Rooted, and “The Ocelot” by Commuter Lit.