Alouette River Dike, July
Dusk is coming down slanting over long grass over
the region beneath my throat across my ribs.
The swallows, like the movement of a conductor’s baton, flit
about, playing on currents of evening air,
while the cold settles on my sides.
Silence in the waning light a distant footfall on the path
western mountain horizon drawing down the sun.
Soon the colours will change
and my shadow, vertical in the mauve grass,
- Zuzana Vasko