Lift

Saša Milivojev - LIFT On the first floor Whiteness A faded memory A saddening distance No one is around I shut the iron door I pushed number two Afraid of unease and memories Screaming I was five On the third floor I saw A multitude of children moving The swallows’ first flight And me falling down From the flock Into black mud Yet the heart of jade Is on the fourth floor I spoke to the flock Through my poems My first colours and tones A poet’s fate The cable snapped I fell into the basement Condemned to wander forever Through its labyrinths Saša Milivojev visit: www.sasamilivojev.com