Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Auf Wiedersehen...September



(to September; the plan was to post this last night but the internet didn't work)

You leave by way of west-gate splendor
Poet-peasants all are we
What are words where heaven renders
Exit-frames of majesty

No drum-roll to part the pastures
No auf wiedersehen, good-bye
Naught but sigh of ruddy waters
As your swansong fills the sky

Kommen mien leibling, bleiben bis zum Morgen
Yet, when morning comes I know
I would beg for one day stronger’
Before I could let you go…

So the Maestro of moments
Breathes your cue upon the air
No kisses, no backward glances
As you climb dusk’s coral stair

Yet, the hill blushes with pleasure
Where your train brushes his brow
And your tears of crimson measure
Fall beneath our feet like snow

© Janet Martin





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