Wind

Thanks for the years, the ten most beautiful
that possibly could happen here, if looked at
from somewhere up above, an airborne satellite’s
perspective—still the same old Eastern Europe,

best place to disappear, one generation
after the next, leaving behind so many
town squares in ruins, partial archives, shoes
scattered about, stray combs and hair, hair

—keep reading: In Translation: Wind // Wiatr by Tomasz Różycki, trans. Mira Rosenthal