October 1, 1939

We are travelling, through a flat, beautiful landscape
Writes my grandmother
Ancient forests; trees like bewitched figures, thickets of shrubs
In 1939
Farmlands, small wooden houses
Blue lakes, green village ponds
Her father arrested, then released
Now and then, cattle
Earth covered with high grasses
Fake passports
Enchanting places, where one
Would like to stop
A steamship from Hamburg to Havana
Now, a small wooden church
Now, a village train depot
Six months on an island
I wish
Then New Orleans
I wish I could
Then a train to Los Angeles
I wish I could describe
Where she keeps a diary
I wish
Which I read on a different train
I wish I could describe each place to you
Almost eighty years to the day…