50 years
at the cutting edge
of poetry publishing
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Kristiina Ehin, from The Scent of Your Shadow

'My child clambers on the windowsill...'

My child clambers on the windowsill
With one hand I keep him from falling
with the other I write
Morning has started up
tea drunk porridge eaten
lilacs gone to seed
the peonies' last buds
open up

In the night their scent came into my room
My child slept
his mouth covered with bread crumbs
All at once I knew that this
bundle of responsibilities
entwined to me by a hundred arms
is my life

And I was happy
as my child slept
and the scent of peonies drifted through the mosquito net
into my room