Skrevet av Arthur Henriksen
This spring I’m yet to smell the lilacs
They’ve sprung up slow
They’ll be blooming in a week or two
For now, they’re timidly arising
This spring I will not dare smell the lilacs
I’d be sent back a year in time
To when I showed up at your door
With a rain-doused bouquet of white
Four weeks ago, from tomorrow
The last time I was in your room
They were still hanging there, blackened
Flattened, desperate, deepened love
I wonder if they still hang there
Or if last spring has come to pass
And I’m sure, this spring
I’ll smell the hedge instead
Arthur Henriksen, født 1996, er medlem av Tekstbehandlingsprogrammet på Radio Nova. Han skriver master i amerikansk litteratur på Universitetet i Oslo, og har utgitt diktsamlingen En Sky av Røyk i Luften.
