Poem by Małgorzata Borzeszkowska
November letters
The letter fell on emptiness.
November resurrected as usual
I lose letters every year,
every autumn I break my wings.
The letter came to a post restante,
no one remembers what it is anymore.
I lose consistency just as every year,
I go on foot to find common sense.
The letters fly over the fall,
above a cloud of red leaves,
like every year I clean up
my own mess-
a poem that I dreamed up in the summer.
November crawls under the threshold,
spills into a golden puddle,
like every year I send letters,
I have too many poems in me,
so I send them, I throw them onto water,
they sail in boats made from the beech seeds.
The letter fell, shrank in itself.
November goes towards winter.
ATUNIS GALAXY POETRY 
‘I go on foot to find common sense’…we should all do that sometimes!