Late Days In March

Henrik Nordbrandt


The days move in one direction,
faces in the other.
Endlessly, they lend each other light.

Years later it’s hard to say
which were days
and which were faces . . .

And the distance between the two
feels more impossible to cross
day after day, face after face.

That’s what I see when I look into your face
these late, bright days in March.