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I am a glass figure
in the window
of the ongoing moment
in a distant winter house;
the winds of yesterday
among the trees,
like Jesus's disciples
in the Garden of Gethsemane;
the past hours -
after collecting the aimlessness
of the living
and the death of the dead -
gathering out on the marshes
for their debriefing

I am a glass figure
that the light shines through
without a trace,
until the passage of years
and the remorse of times past
leave minuscule cracks
in my mind,
refracting the rays
into the colours of the rainbow
that was believed to be a sign
of a covenant
between the Dictator
and his figurines

I am a glass figure
in the window that faces dusk,
listening, immobilized,
to the draining depopulation
of bodies
and the fluttering
of the massive transmigration
of souls;
noisy flocks of jackdaws
over city parks and town halls

Fri vers (Fri form) av Ingvar Loco Nordin VIP
Läst 25 gånger
Publicerad 2022-11-26 11:10

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