Poetry by Ann Day
Ann Day was born in 1927 in Malta where her father was stationed in the British Royal Navy. She spent her summers and the first years of the war at La Haule Manor on the Channel Island of Jersey, the home that was the seat of her grandfather, R. R. Marett, Professor of Anthropology and Rector of Exeter College, Oxford. She came to America in 1940 with some four hundred other refugee children on a ship chartered by an American great uncle. These poems are the fruit and the record of her extraordinary early experiences.
SNEAK PEAK:
The Cider Press
Only a few steps then
from the shadowed stone
cold in its green tonsure
to a low room
where apples from another season
waited in wineripe appledark
Only a few steps once
but now the rotting door opens in memory alone
the sun’s set
that gilded dust and apples
on those long grey shelves
Only a few steps
and it is we who wait out winter
wrinkling in a dark
we could not guess was waiting
on the other side of summer’s
golden afternoon
(c) 2007 Ann Day
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