The Granary's Voice
With nightfall comes reflection.
Once the builders, traders, lever-pushers are gone
and have taken their noises with them,
we regain our voices:
The canal laps up whatever stars, leaves or raindrops he
can catch, then talks about becoming a river,
about hopping out of bed, one day;
of boldly flowing, where no bulldozer has gone before.
Lese weiter:
Auch vertont
The Garden
Dragonflies zigzag
over unplucked strawberries,
brambles spill from flowerbeds
where bindweed triumphs.
Lese weiter:
An earlier version of this poem was used as song lyrics by the band Purty Violet.