Trafika Europe 12 - French Bon-Bons

To Each Unfolding Leaf

Downwind from Tsarmine Pass

So the journey was beginning again not far from the haylofts in the song of our song the glacier’s lips were turning blue every word uttered by your mouth tearing crystals from the rocks

A step away from the abyss—the girls—weary no longer having to play at being girls of the air their arms outstretched over the stone slabs just as soon beloved by the lichens

Coming over the pass the light wildly ruffled relentless

severe mother—she’ll know how to educate them with that part of the wind that freezes shells and mouths visits salt and bread

51