Sometimes she dreams about waking up.

In a vacant house of hungry cats
her stubbornness holds her up
like a hollowed oak.

She cries above the sink
sings while cooking
creaks like an old staircase.

Her silence is so much more
than not speaking. It’s the restlessness
of clear blue water.

She’s waiting for nothing,
yet she is.  

(c) Leen Raats

With the original, Dutch version of this poem I won the writing competition ‘Guido Wulmsprijs’ organized by the city of Sint-Truiden, Belgium. The original version contains more half rhyme, which makes it sound better, but unfortunately, it’s impossible to translate it and keep both the meaning and the rhythm, so I had to make compromises. Hope you’ll like it anyway.

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