Timothy Kercher’s Comments

Winter Gudauri, Republic of Georgia
Written one late, insomnia-filled night when my wife and I were visiting the Georgian ski area, Gudauri.

The Kiss
Written in August of 2008, at the tail end of the Russia’s invasion into the Republic of Georgia when sections of Borjomi, a mountainous national park in Georgia, had been torched and were burning from the invasion, while in Tbilisi, many of the schools were filled with refugees from all the affected areas. A Georgian friend of mine who was working with an international aid organization had just related several stories of the refugees he’d been working with, which is what inspired the poem.

The Dung Pile
The title on this one came to me first while driving our Lada Niva (a Russian four-wheel drive) through Eastern Turkey for our fall break. Many of the villages and stone houses that we drove past had nicely arranged piles of dry dung, which is what many villagers burn for heat. Driving through several villages, the dung-smoke was so thick it felt as if we were driving through a thick fog. I thought these “dung piles” ideal images for an “ars poetica” type of poem.

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FRiGG: A Magazine of Fiction and Poetry | Issue 30 | Fall 2010