Estelle Bruno – Three Poems
It comes quickly – swiftly –
bringing sometimes sadness
seeing everything turning
to red when it should be
a beautiful green.
The pool is a dirty ugly mess.
But my sadness leaves
when I remember spring
will be here soon again.
For now the animals
have nowhere to hide,
their coats a musty brown
when their bodies
should be a lovely tan.
Winter, come, but leave quickly.
Ernest & Me
He wrote in the little cafés
Because his rooms were
Cold and ill-lit
I shall write in my own cafés,
To be free of the chains in my brain –
Maybe then I shall have a piece
Of his moveable feast.
I have invaded your privacy –
The privacy of the dead.
So many books and files of your writings.
Impressive diplomas, framed letters
from famous people –
governors, actors, congressmen
all displayed on your wall.
When I entered your writer’s sanctuary
my hand automatically reached for the light button.
I had no idea I would find such a treasure.
Perhaps you were writing a book on humanities.
I did not read your writing, only what was visible
to my eyes on your wall.
So rest easy, Isabelle.
We moved your books from another place
and brought them into your space.
You must have been suspicious of me.
I left your dusty place knowing full well
I would have to come back.
This time you were ready for me.
I searched everywhere for the light button.
It had disappeared.
Yes, you were ready for me this time.
Estelle Bruno is a poet and humor writer. She is 91 years of age. Her work has appeared in many publications such as Poesia, The Mom Egg, Re:Verse, Istanbul Literary Review and the New York Times.