MAGGIE BUTT

Meltwater

My time is coming, smell it on the wind
watch raindrops winnowing down glass

touch ice-cube to your lips and tongue
feel the cool chemistry of meltwater;

see me submerge fields and swallow crops
spill out of wells to infiltrate your graves

raising the dead. Firm ground will swamp
to ooze and squelch and slip, mud-symphony;

hear gurgles, trickles, runnels in your sleep
reach for the drifting flotsam of your dreams;

sweep river-sludge and sewage from the rug
swell my boundaries with your salt tears;

heave seas, wide breaths to rear up hills
waves come to claim their lost inheritance

listen to the future: rain-rocked, lake-like
nothing divides the waters from the waters.
 

Alexandra Sarbu

Maggie Butt
 

Apa topindu-se
 

Mi-a venit timpul, se simte-n aer
priveste picaturile de apa risipite in jos pe geam

du un cub de gheata pe buze si pe limba
simte reactia racoritoare a apei in topire;

priveste-ma cum scufund campuri si inghit recolte
cum ma revars in fantani, ca sa patrund in mormintele voastre

inviind morti. Pamantul solid se va transforma in mlastina
ca se se prelinga, sa clipoceasca si sa alunece in aceasta simfonie de noroi;

ascult-o galgaind, prelingandu-se in somn
indreptandu-se catre epavele plutitoare ale viselor tale

matura malul din rau si scursura de pe rogojina
umflandu-mi marginile cu lacrimile-ti sarate;

revarsandu-se in mare, se inalta peste dealuri
iar valurile vin sa-si ceara mostenirea pierduta

asculta soarta: leganat de ploaie, asemeni lacului
nimic nu separa apele de ape.