Write me the other way round
With chalk on a grey blackboard
On a day when springs kindle
Mist in the leafless valleys
In mirror writing trace
All the diacritical marks
While the crows caw
Weaving branches into nests
Everything utterly back to front
Pour it out as into a paper bag
On a day when the swans fly away
Crying snow into the future
So that, with the bag’s contents shaken up
The syntax suddenly changes
While the starlings chatter
Running cantankerously in the dark
Write me the other way round
All the diacritical marks
On a day when the swans fly away
Running cantankerously in the dark
/Lauma Lapa, former ELCL evangelist/