As a child my grandmother
used to tell me stories, dark
and macabre tales
the Ghoulbird’s curse
of a swallowing slough
the marsh of Gobble-Ox
under a full moon a grey mist
the heron singing louder
in the wetlands
a harsh land still rotting
the peasant superstitions
where a wild apple tree grew
where the dead drown
sous la pleine lune.

Ilona Martonfi