Thursday 30 May 2013

347

Gasthof zur Mundentalsperre, 2002

Fireflies move in the grasses,
Faded, flowerlike points at the
Dark edge of luminescence :

In the empty vault overhead, far
Correspondents mirror them,
Motionless carriers of a brighter

Fire, caught there in the arms of
Nebulæ, sung to sleep above the
Softening world. Our bold pair

Stand in their antique costumes
Next to a white gate of frail
Wood, looking wordlessly out

From behind their generous
Moustaches. There is something
Rueful in their posture, as if

They sought uselessly to warn
Against the first mistake of an
Already doomed hero. We are,

In a certain measure, their last
Charges. The wall beside them
Is coralline, bright with colour.

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