Sibila Petlevski

1964 / Zagreb

Nocturnal Marauders

Wet leaves on a stairway. A slow wind still drawling
Weasel words from the night before. Cats prowling.
Is that little Alvina weeping: her long, unkempt hair
Stuck in the chimney again? It sounds like a fanfare

Of small trumpets. The impish noise of cornets blowing.
Only nightingales were using the technique of bowing.
No more 'jug-jug'. Now it's: 'Pee-wit, pee-wit, pee-wit!'
Wildfowl crying 'come back' - actually meaning 'Leave it!'

Owls hoot and screech, hawks scream and foxes yelp;
Only falcons chant. Their all-purpose liturgy can help
You and me to understand that nothing really matters

As long as we feel alive. People cross like letters
On their way out of difficulties. Gratify your lust.
If I go off the main road, say just: 'Dust to dust.'
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