January by Charles Simic never fails to move me and I can't count how many times I have read it over the years:
Children’s fingerprints
On a frozen window
Of a small schoolhouse.
An empire, I read somewhere,
Maintains itself through
The cruelty of its prisons.
In the most recent reading I thought of children stuck at home in these pandemic times, looking out the window in a snowy winter's day. They are captive of both the home and the school at once. This interview with Simic opens a tiny window into his world, his recollection of his own childhood:
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