After I pointed with fingers numb from the damp air
that bit like the autumn air I grew up with,
in Boston by the Atlantic,
over the clear counters for baklava,
laughed with the men and watched
the café through its mirrors: hands wrapped
around amber apple tea, scattered newspapers—
I walked back past the fishermen
in the bruised evening mist, alone by the water again.
Maia Evrona's poems, as well as excerpts from her memoir on chronic illness, have appeared in Prairie Schooner, New South and elsewhere. Her translations of the Yiddish-language poet Abraham Sutzkever were awarded a 2016 Translation Fellowship from the National Endowment for the Arts and have appeared in Poetry magazing. She has written on the importance of the NEA for Artnet.