This is a found poem adapted from Norwegian Wood by the Japanese author, Huraki Murakami. I’ve done some cutting and made a few changes in punctuation but essentially all I have done is to impose line breaks. This is very Murakami with its mention of wells, other worlds and surreal happenings. To write a found poem is Read Write Poem’s thrift store prompt posted by Christine. I have just finished reading Murakami’s The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle.
I can bring back every detail
of that day in the meadow…
…a puff of wind swept through her hair
slipped into the woods to rustle branches
send back snatches of distant barking
– a hazy sound that seemed to reach us
from the doorway to another world.
We heard no other sounds.
We met no other people.
We saw only two bright, red birds
leap from the centre of the meadow
and dart into the woods.
Naoko spoke to me of wells,
Memory is a funny thing…
…the smell of the grass
the faint chill of the wind
the line of the hills
the barking of the dog
come back with absolute clarity.
I feel as if I can reach out
and trace them with a fingertip.
And yet, as clear as the scene may be,
no one is in it. No one.
Naoko is not there, and neither am I.