Among rocks, I am the loose one,
among arrows, I am the heart,
among daughters, I am the recluse,
among sons, the one who dies young.
Among answers, I am the question,
between lovers, I am the sword,
among scars, I am the fresh wound,
among confetti, the black flag.
Among shoes, I am the one with the pebble,
among days, the one that never comes,
among the bones you find on the beach
the one that sings was mine.
–by Lisel Mueller, b. 1924
What rhythm! I just read this poem for the first time. It makes me want to write a poem. Perhaps I’ll begin it like this: Among night songs, I am the Mueller one. (Or maybe not). Off to write now…