A Swirl

At first through the glass and then onto the plate and after that under the table.

And it goes on.

Like a swirl of dust but not dust.

Goes around the chairs, hits the ceiling and comes back to the floor.

Now it crosses the kitchen window, it lands on the grass in the backyard.

And then engulfs the bushes and the trees and now around the house and through the sink and the oven.

It surrounds the house and then spreads itself in a wave-like movement, grows widely through the streets and goes about the town.

(until the night comes)

It goes around the cities, the fields, the valleys, the forests, the waterfalls.

Now it is coming back like an embrace and surrounds us again.

It is coming through the sink’s pipe.

A tap remains silent.

The sun rises.

Clodie Vasli

© Clodie Vasli, 2010