112

I am from naked birch trees, 
that blend in with the gray skies seamlessly.

I am from the snow that blankets the ground 
and chills the air with each breath, 

from a small town that lives within the 
Arctic Circle, hidden, not known of. 

I am from borscht that simmers the back 
of your throat as you sip, sip, sip on it–

hoping to not burn the roof of 
your mouth or tip of your tongue. 

 
I am from strange looking letters; mainly 
symbols because “letters” are unrecognizable. 

I am from pointe shoes that leave scarring, 
bright red blisters and pink tutus that cinch

the tiniest waists and float effortlessly 
as the twirls make us dizzy. 

I am from the vodka that burns your throat, 
tingles your tastebuds, causing them to dance

freely yet ever so painfully… 
too much of me and you won’t remember. 

 

I am from Matryoshka’s, 
they unstack, stack, unstack, stack... 

I am from Orthodoxy, beautiful, elegant, 
modest, white baptismal robes. 

Alexandra Kluger

Send to Postal Code: 184209



113

I am from the brown bears that prowl 
and hunt; resilient and preserving.

I am from Tchaikovsky, Swan Lake.
Layers of traditionalism.

I am from the red, blue, white
horizontal striped flag in Apatity, Russia.