Now when all it does is rain
I suddenly understand that there are
two ways to write something
Morning and one can lean forward
over the desk and make note of months
and years     To in this way point out
an actual historic past is a way
to retreat from so much within poetry
as a result this is a way to write about
a particular form of disappointment
Richard Nixon’s gesture by the helicopter
August 1974

Afternoon also in the trees’ movements
outside the window     The wind says nothing
about the rest of us – it passes
through our hair – it is forgotten

This is the absent-minded writing
a possibility to approach childhood
and loneliness
Summer that gradually takes up
more space in the smell of summer cottages

(Fredrik Nyberg, from “Rotor Blades, movements (1–5)”, in A Different Practice, trans. Jennifer Hayashida.)