Bruch & Mendelssohn (III)
After the long glide between snow-wallsand the ritual of warm water,
a spirit ascends the skin –
endorphin silence
sealing the body against the cosmic hiss,
and I endure
the absolute truth of pallid death,
until the violins –
Mendelssohn, Bruch –
tear open the roof of years,
and I am nineteen again,
delivered from evil
in a southern hall of learning,
and even life
can be endured
Poetry by Ingvar Loco Nordin
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Written on 2026-03-22 at 18:57
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