d a y t w e n t y s e v e n
reykjavík, 3rd of april, 2020
dear isabel,
as promised, a report on the situation in the
northernmost capital of the earth.
* * *
while taking my daily afternoon walk
— the rationed hour and a half —
I witnessed a raven chasing a seagull
the feathers on the tip of its wings
fanned out and turned
with every move of the smaller bird
twisting its white body
against the dull cloudy sky
a lamb’s knuckle bone in its orange beak
stretched to the limit
the chase came to an end
above the old telegraph building
the gull dropping its meal
the raven snatching it up
before it touched the ground
it happened today
I don’t know if it will happen again tomorrow
* * *
the way the old story has it:
in this world there is nothing as black
as the two shiny pearls a raven carries for eyes.
to the raven everything is a shade of light
from that we should take comfort
* * *
yours in confinement,
sjón