Today, I am paging through a few books of poetry by Robin Fulton. To me, he has always been "the guy who translates Transtromer" (and a shelf full of other poets I admire,) but I recently came across this poem of his in an anthology and thought I should take a deeper look. Googling his own poetry is really tough if you don't have a title to search. He's so tied to Transtromer that's almost always what you get. But, here ya go:
Something like a sky
Something in us has suddenly cleared.
Something like a sky.
Something like a still-life, alive.
Behind us, our footsteps and voices.
Behind all the walls, a wide silence.
The air is white and open, ready for snow.
Robin Fulton
This is from his collection Fields of Focus and it reminds me quite a bit of the Transtromer poem 2 A.M. And why that last line, "the air is white and open, ready for snow", gives me such a lovely shiver I don't don't quite know.
