Naomi by Travis Wright


She was first to show

me how I too had been

brought here unwillingly

and prompted by a solemn

promise to say thank you.

What did I learn? No one

had ever lived for the first

time in my hands before.

No one had appeared in

the world with my eyes

before or changed from

want to life because of

my life before. I had heard

one morning winter’s first

birdsong burst through

the clear white hush like

a pageant of bells, and

hurry on, like dying words

laid down before last rites—

but there, beside the table,

where our voices changed,

I learned the power of

this purity I knew before

only as hope, and saw,

finally, in her, that we

who fed war’s technology

were given daughters

as proof time still lends

its trembling hands

to us with forgiveness.

Travis Wright

Travis Wright is a graduate student in Charlotte, NC where he lives with his wife Emily and their two children. His work has appeared previously in the Brooklyn Quarterly, Anthropocene, and ARTOS, among others.

About this poem

The poem "Naomi" describes Travis's experience of holding his first child and hearing her voice and having nothing to compare its surreality with except war and forgiveness. 

Recent Posts

See All

These Days by Jeannie Prinsen

These days the sun's in hiding. Morning drapes open to darkness. Later, when I walk, flakes spin grey against white sky. Beyond this snow-globe bubble fires burn, bombs drop. I look behind at my footp

The Colour Of Tea by Amlanjyoti Goswami

The Colour of Tea I once made tea in the forest With twigs and dry leaves. It came out yellow As if the fallen leaves had something to do with it. The colour of tea is usually blue, Like the colour of

The Way Things Are by Elodie Rose Barnes

The Way Things Are It begins after the unpacking has ended; the gathering-together of crumbs for bread, enough for a loaf, enough to say to this new place - we belong. We save some. Hoard them in litt

 © 2020 Dust Poetry Magazine

The copyright to all contents of this site is held either by Dust Poetry Magazine or by the individual poets and artists. None of the material may be used elsewhere without written permission. For reprint enquiries, please contact