Some words sit better with a blackboard,
like a line delivered offhand by an old stager,
even if tinged with a hint of limestone scent
and prolonged storage, but you could have tried
slightly more sophisticated writing implements
for the sudden ‘I’m leaving’.
More words to ponder at maciejmodzelewski.com
We used to celebrate this day, the seventeenth, and then I cursed it passionately
for a long time. Perhaps now it is what it is supposed to be—just another day
that sometimes reminds me of something, although I am not sure what exactly.
But even if I were a function of memory, the body that bears it is no ordinary
blackboard that has lost its only piece of chalk.
hidden pilcrow 