from 1001 Winters

by Kristiina Ehin

In a dream
I saw a ticket booth
at a bus stop where
birds’ feathers were sold instead of tickets
and the seller was…
an old man
with the early spring sun in his eyes

and for you young lady…
he said slowly
and took from somewhere next to the door
where there might have been
a bin and a broom
one more feather
a white plume
light and as tall
as himself

I paid and went
in dream’s muddy buses
no notion of waking
no fear of inspection