It's Still Life

Lost in Translation (reading time: 1 minute)

A letter arrived.
Every house on the street had one.
Through the letter slot, it fell
to the floor. Waiting for us.

So we all gathered over a table
layed with tea cups and cakes,
and we brought our letters
with us to compare.

Some thought they were written in
a language of blood and speech.

One woman said it gave her an icy neck.
The old widow wants a chain for her door.

The man next door wants to put his
letter in a bottle, throw it in the sea.

Someone said the sea’ll refuse it,
and throw it straight back.

Someone mentioned invasion,
and everyone said tut.tut.tut

A man nobody knew said his letter
smelled like baked beans, having
forgotten that was his lunch.

Those letters left us feeling fragile,
like icebergs falling apart.

A mystery those letters, written
in a Cyrillic script, and no one
knew what their letter said.