forty-seventh Moon Prize goes
to Nancy Gerber's poem "In the Garden,
In the Garden, Stuttgart
in black and white,
my family seated in the garden.
Great Uncle Louis, Great Grandma Clara,
her daughters, Flora and Ilse,
my father, his
their cousins Lore and Peter.
The year is
1930, my father seven.
No one imagines
Five years later Flora is gone.
Felled by infection from an asylum,
her mind diseased
before her body.
My grandfather Kurt reappears
to care for his children
though he has married
After the war, a reunion,
for those who are left.
The U.S. their
Learn a new
tongue. Try to forget.
The garden still beckons but my father
I’ve never been, though at night
I dream of deep forests, rushing rivers
a woman’s voice calling Mein Leibschen,
a castle where everyone waltzes.
* * * * *
This poem isexcerpted with permission from the author’s poetry chapbook, We Are All Refugees (New Feral Press, 2017). For more information or to order copies please contact Nancy Gerber at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Gerber writes fiction, poetry, and essays. Her most recent book, A Way Out
of Nowhere (Big
Table Publishing), is a collection of short stories featuring female
protagonists negotiating the complexities of relationships; it is available on Amazon.