Three poems by the Dutch writer K. Schippers

 

Shavings

On a classroom cupboard

stood a globe

under it I placed

a pencil sharpener

in the form of

a globe

and so I recall

my worlds when I

see the star-shavings

in the sky.

The gift

Give me what’s on you.

Not keys or money.

Just what happens to be there.

The hurriedly scribbled phone number.

The note in your jacket pocket that also got dry-cleaned.

The button on the point of getting lost.

The words you came within an inch of saying.

Your strength that’s too much to open a door.

All that’s of no use to you any more.

Give me the rustle of your cotton.

The wind can do without it.

No, no Nanette

Before the war Tea for Two

did something for my father.

And for me too.

He walked slowly

to hear more of it

coming from a house

and so missed the No. 2 tram.

In the next one my mother was sitting.