Winter Fugue

In winter

He wants to go to sleep

In the tops of the trees

With his white eyes

All the singing is

All the singing is

With his white eyes

In the tops of the trees 

With his white eyes

He wants to go to sleep


This is inspired by Mary Oliver’s „White Eyes“.

The dark river flows even calmer
after the people have left
the rocks‘ reflection more steady
the herons‘ cries louder and more sudden
fish jump from time to time

When people leave the stream
the world is ever young, but wisely so
not burdened by thoughts and
memories.

She

Light rain; poplars by

the rivulet; two crows looking

down

As if they were waiting for

a third one


In shallow water, standing on gravel

the woman turns her head to the wanderer

the shirt slips from her hand and lightly

splashes.

A droplet beneath her eye.

No – a tear.

The uniform passing of days
dripping like grey honey from languid clouds
makes my sleep uneasy
it amazes me every morning
not to wake up as a giant bug
my day on trellises
forms better fruit


This is based on Ruth Stone: „Cheap“

Erstelle eine kostenlose Website mit WordPress.com
Jetzt starten