A Bowl of Warm Air

Someone is falling towards you
as an apple falls from a branch,
moving slowly, imperceptibly as if
into a new political epoch,
or excitedly like a dog towards a bone.
He is holding in both hand
severything he knows he has
—a bowl of warm air.

He has sighted you from afar
as if you were a dramatic crooked tree
on the horizon and he has seen you close up
like the underside of a mushroom.
But he cannot open you like a newspaper
or put you down like a newspaper.

And you are satisfied that he is veering towards you
and that he is adjusting his speed
and that the sun and the wind and rain are in front of him
and the sun and the wind and rain are behind him.

–Moniza Alvi

Der er ikke sket det store i dag, men syntes at jeg har været i gang nonstop hele tiden og er derfor nu mere eller minde udmattet. Digtet er gårsdagens digt fra "Poem A Day" og selvom jeg ikke helt kan gennemskue det kan jeg godt lide det drømmende udtryk digtet har.

Udover det kan i lige få et billede med på vejen. Tog det af Sebastian for ikke så lang tid siden og det viser virkelig hvor glad en lille dreng han er :)

Godnat ♥