RUSH OF AIR Poem by Piotr Sommer
RUSH OF AIR
O days! those were the most unyielding,
fluid at first, then quivering
there was no way for them to ripen, come to themselves
even at night.
Continents as if nothing ever happened
shifting beneath the eyelids
like dust in sunlight.
And it wasn't clear what links the days
because the birds
were moving always in the air, the wind
permeated the leaves, and the breath was too weak.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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3/14/2026 5:29:33 PM # 1.0.0
