About this Blog

Saturday, 29 October 2016

In the Tiergarten, Late October

Above the falling leaves stands
the angel of victory: something
great has been conquered
for the walkers in the park.

All is equal to my desire;
the trees ache with the color
of my heart. The ghosts of all
past summer suns are here, haunting;

here a chill wind blows just so
to sweeten the loneliness;
and here, like a warm body through
a curtain, I can feel my secret—

the one we have by existing and hide
in our existence, where it is safe
from every mind, angel’s or mine,
because it cannot be whispered.

No comments:

Post a comment