Two poems by Andrew Szilvasy

An Unseen Woman’s Scream Wakes Ghosts Near Daybreak

All the house’s Argus-eyes are open,

so that, high-pitched but breaking, it bursts in

like gale waves smashing Malta’s Azure Window

down to gravel. Hearing it, she stands,

looks out the window for the dying siren.

He rolls over, unaware as usual.

Was it real? Dawn’s near and first birds screech

what people call a song, but in it she

has always heard that whistle in her purse.

More than air she needs him to have heard it.

It’s just the birds, he says, their timbre almost

matches a scream. They want her to agree.

He makes a show of closing all the windows.

There is quiet. He is sleeping. She lies, silent,

smashing windows with her muffled cries.

Political Poem

A mother wanders the border

and cries ghost apples pregnant with bees.

She begins appearing in Insta-stories,

young white women smiling beside her.

They try to help her find her children

by posting images between classes.