Old Haunts Tríptico: Mis viejas moradas by Carol J. Scamman
POETRY
tengo que cortar
la Hidra escondida en esta casa.
mi valor crece lentamente
mientras serpenteo lejos del pasado.
labios temblando, le pido permiso
al propietario actual
para recorrer mi casa de la infancia.
me dice que se ha divorciado recientemente.
¿este tipo es seguro?
quiere enseñarme el sótano
que convirtió en un apartamento,
pero sé dónde y cuándo temer;
y ahora encuentro lo que debo dejar atrás.
confío en que no volverán a crecer o se excitarán
ningunos monstruos de la memoria
para tomarme prisionera.
deslizarme lejos como una serpiente cascabel
desacerándome de la piel mudada.
=
I have to sever
the hidden Hydra in this house
my courage grows slowly
as I snake away from the past.
lips trembling, I ask
the current homeowner’s permission
to tour my childhood home.
he tells me he’s recently divorced.
is this guy safe?
he wants to show me the basement
that he converted into an apartment,
but I know where and when to fear;
and now I find what I must leave behind.
I trust no monsters of memory
will grow back or will be aroused
to take me prisoner.
I sidewind away
sloughing off shed skin.
Carol J. Scamman is a Massachusetts native who lives in Nacogdoches, TX. She’s a retired academic librarian with degrees from Grove City College (BA) and UAlbany (MLS). Her poetry, inspired by her paternal grandfather Henry W. Scamman, is curated in Trolley: the online journal of the NYS Writers Institute and in Rainy Weather Days: a Defiant Literary Magazine. She has also published creative nonfiction in the book The West That Was, ed. Joe Lansdale and Tom Knowles. She enjoys travelling and learning other languages. When feeling chatty, her two Siberian Forest cats attempt to recite her poems by heart.
