Kristina Andersson Bicher

Morning Bells in Marienplatz

“The government has collapsed. Kabul has descended into chaos. A spokesman says
the war is over.” 16 August 2021, BBC News

The wasps

in Munich dive-bomb
our breakfast plates, press
their gargoyled faces into our fried ham,

its salt, into the pink heft
of what they crave, bore
wasp-sized holes in the meat

and airlift the spoils. Slices

of sunlight cut across the red-
flocked window boxes of a stone
façade. The famed glock begins

to spiel and bell the hour. A carousel,

wakens slow, then starts its giant turn: dukes
and harlequin steeds reiterate ancient
hates: stab-stab-stab-recover, buglers

and jesters cheer. More clanks

and cogs, and there go the jigging coopers, jig-
jigging. When Kabul fell, when Kabul fell, 
the charred bird cries thrice.

Author: Kristina Andersson Bicher

Kristina Andersson Bicher is a poet, translator and essayist whose work has appeared in Ploughshares, Denver Quarterly, Hayden’s Ferry, Narrative, Barrow Street, Painted Bride Quarterly, The Atlantic, and others. She earned degrees from Harvard University and Sarah Lawrence College.

Plume: Issue #148 December 2023