Poems

DANIELA NAOMI MOLNAR
Memory of a larger mind

Sitting with a glacier 
in the far north 
of North America
in 2023 
I have a memory
of being
on my grandmother’s balcony
in Cluj, Romania
in 1936 when she was twenty-three                      
Yet I wasn’t there

Sitting with a glacier 
in the far north 
of North America
in 2023  
I have no memory                      
of being 
with this glacier
when I was twenty-three             
Yet I was here

RainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainEarlier this summer, I stood in a street
Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainin Cluj, Romania, in 2023
Rainrainrainrainrainrainstaring at my grandmother’s apartment
Rainrainrainrainwhere she had lived when she was twenty-three before being 
Rainrainrammed into Auschwitz. 
I remember resting 
her/my hand
on the curve 
of the black iron balcony
a cup of gold tea
soft chamomile steam
bustling square below 

Now I stand by the glacial river
its swift magnificence
its insouciant menace

RainrainrainrainrainrainI was twenty-three when a truck
Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainraininside of which I sat
Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrammed into this barricade 
Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainabove this glacial river
backed up then
Rainrainrammed into this barricade 
Rainrainrainrainagain twice thrice 
rammed into this barricade
Rainrainand my head
RainrainrainrainI am told
Rainrainrainrainrainrainhit the windshield glass 
Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainonce
Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainraintwice
Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainthrice
Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainabove this glacial river

Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainiithe glass

RainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainI am told 
Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainranrainraismashed

RainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainranrainraiI lost 

Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainthe means 

Rainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainrainto make a memory 

Why did I survive
Why did she survive

Why did she survive 
from her iron-rimmed balcony 
to a steel-barbed field of barracks
Rainrainconcrete slots terrible holes
Rainrainrainrainwalls—bodies—barricades 
Rainrainrainrainrainraina drowning air they shared

Why does she survive 
in this body, mine 

This body in time
is a rumor 
of an echo
of a shadow 
of a fog              

Upriver the glacier
drops orange and green
rocks from far and long ago 

along its melting edge
it gives a memory 
of aerial crags 

and thin bright wind
to the valley                               
who didn’t live it 

Daniela Naomi Molnar is a poet, artist and writer who creates with color, water, language, and place. Her debut book CHORUS won the 2024 Stafford/Hall Oregon Book Award for Poetry and was selected by Kazim Ali as the winner of Omnidawn Press’ 1st/2nd Book Award. Forthcoming books include: PROTOCOLS (Ayin, 2025), Memory of a Larger Mind (Omnidawn, 2028), and Light / Remains (Bored Wolves, 2026). Her book-length poem “Memory of a Larger Mind” accompanies photographs by Julian Stettler in The Glacier is a Being (Sturm & Drang, 2023), and her work is anthologized in the forthcoming second volume of The Ecopoetry Anthology and in Breaking the Glass: A Contemporary Jewish Poetry Anthology by The Laurel Review. She founded the Art + Ecology program at the Pacific Northwest College of Art and helped start and run the backcountry artist residency Signal Fire. www.danielamolnar.com / Instagram: @daniela_naomi_molnar