Golden Shovel from Anna Akhmatova – 6.23.1889 to 3.5.l966 All Has Been Taken Away…” from Poems of Akhmatova

By Kathamann

All has been taken away:  strengths and love

My body, cast into an unloved city

is not glad of the sun. I feel my blood

has gone quite cold in me.  

Times accumulate to become treasures, all

an object I see every day has

a place and reflection that’s been

ritualized before taken

to a storage locker, away

from daily scrutiny for strengths,

dimension, palette and

maybe even love.

This accumulation is economical, my

politics of body

unable to approach the cast

of an understudy into

a play. In theater an

unannounced substitute is unloved.

As sparing as a rural city

Only an asphalt street is

alive full of potholes and not

safe to ride or walk on.  Glad

to not go anywhere of

interest or experience the

warmth of the sun.

Someone will speak but I

am not sure and I feel the need 

to be careful and whisper my

response. The vision of knives and blood

blends in my brain. It has

cries of hurt present then they are gone.

The histories on these streets is quite

cold.  Danger is cold

and quick in

side of me.