Wednesday, February 16, 2011

Spring by Siyana Ivanova

Speck by speck by speck
The wind carries away the ashes
(That had once been my world)
While Spring is dancing her first steps
That slowly turn into a cavalcade
Of countless little wings
Which make the air tremble.
Why does not the lack tear me apart,
And why do I feel the sun on my face?
I should have melted away, I should have
Been broken into little pieces
And collapsed from the roofs like snow.
After every breath that seems to be last,
Why is there a next one, next one, I inhale,
I breathe, and I take in Spring
Into my veins, and why are they not bloodless?
Spring. Spring. Spring.
I want to live.

No comments:

Post a Comment