The Eighteenth Detachment: Ivan Gaćina

Wading through frozen water, I look for you above the sunken Titanic
while a hoarfrosted timeless pen
follows the blind chords of Elvis Presley
creating broken hearts from colorful clouds.

Origami butterflies scatter the heart sparks
through riddles crisscrossed by the puzzles of fate
as the fisherman pulls the net out of the vortex of life,
and love letters sink into the mystical river Lethe.

On the waves, a forest fairy swings  
forgotten words of a melodious tone
while from the sea salt pedestal
I build a castle of verses by memory.

I hastily look for faded photos
swung by the pendulum of unforgetfulness through the cobweb
while the raftsman bridges the seasons
in the flickering pupils of a blazing constellation.

Running past a blossoming lavender bed
an express train carries away the unwritten desires
where the modus operandi of bygone times
precipitates through the eighteenth detachment into the abyss.




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