On Some Days

/, Blesok no. 95/On Some Days

On Some Days

The day filtering
Buzzing flight
On some days
Apple and blackbird
Every day
Our own breath
We meet inside

EVERY DAY the edge of memory shifts
and what we wanted to say: the apple

doesn’t know that time recites us. In our hands
a huge lake sweats, and the world

begins again as fine as a whisper
over the garden gate, like a spider’s web

that hangs up a centre in the air, lying in wait
for a connection. We think ourselves in sequences

the table laid, and when silence opens,
in the street love goes to the baker’s

dumb as a deer. A shiver crosses the wallpaper.
What´s difficult now is the blackbird.

AuthorJürgen Nendza
2018-08-21T17:22:39+00:00 May 15th, 2014|Categories: Poetry, Blesok no. 95|0 Comments