Thursday, October 27, 2011

After Ritsos

You know that moment in the summer dusk
when the sunbathers have all gone home to mix drinks
and you are alone on the beach

when the waves begin to nibble
on the abandoned sand castles—
And further out, over the erupted face

of the water stained almost pink
there are a few clouds that hold
entire rooms inside of them—rooms where no one lives—

in the hair
of the light that soon will go
grey and then black. It is the moment

when even the man who mops the floor
in the execution room of the prison
stops to look up into the silence

that grows like smoke or the dusk itself.
And your mind becomes almost visible
and you know there is nothing

that is not mysterious. And that no moment
is less important than this moment.
And that imprisonment is not possible.

-- Malena Morling


  1. That moment of time when the light fades, the birds become quiet....the start of twilight draws close.

  2. Two days away and I miss the guns, the ice cream man, the ice cream, and the impossibility of imprisonment. My heart rate is all over the place.

  3. You and I always pick the same ones to love.

  4. Beautiful poem. And I loved the ice cream posts, too. :-)

    Greetings from London.



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