that day

That day, infinity, as though in sheer fun,
took on the colours of honey and soot; the hoarse cries
of the factories' whistles labored to express it.
Knife grinders ambled through yards
and left wakes of sparks, like storms without homes.
A squad of soldiers marched back from the firing range,
students circled the university.
the perfume of apples rose from cellars.
A tram nosed down narrow streets.
Black spruce trees cast just as black shadows on lawns.
A cat slept on a bench, as soft as a dream.
That day, infinity, as though in sheer fun,
assumed the form of a flock of sparrows,
and, changing shape, pirouetted over the grass. A. Zagajewski