Two fresh poems from South African Carla Chait — Never Passed A poem about the writers mother A past immersed:
our midnight hours tallied together.
History soaking dreamily…
First steeped then released
onto a street of strangers.
Change, suffering, sometimes love —
Sleet among the songs.
Stumbling forward along a sword —
streaming with others,
trading secrets, stories of woe —
Between, the murmur of her
echoes along a…