But more on that later, as I currently lack the time to properly craft the details of such a fulfilling experience. For now, here's a working draft of that poem I wrote last week - sitting on another hill watching a sunset over Freiburg with some local white wine in hand.
(Impressions, ideas, comments, criticism, etc. of any sort are always appreciated!)
Freiburg Sommerhymn
If these raindrops become bombs again,
this umbrella will be all we’ll need, with you
the weatherman nudging clouds aside
as your palm skims the curve of my shoulder
and drops like those uncertain syllables at the end
of our sentences.
For now we’ll just sit on the drooping horizon,
drinking wine made by soiled hands
while the bent elbows of rooftops relax
into hills arched no more than your eyebrows.
We eat up the hours like olives,
popping them all in at once
to make each salty word stick to our tongues
long after we’ve swallowed them whole.
The staring contest with
this field of scattered square galaxies below us
finally ends when their wooden eyes blink down
into languid dreams.
And even the stars can’t stay awake
as we watch them fall from their watchtowers
into cradling mountain folds
rocking them into the morning.
Now tamed, the darkness stretches out in front of us
like a weary old foxhound, warmed by the colors
that fireflies make only when they’re sure
that no one’s watching.
3 comments:
I'll tell you in person later
my fate is sealed when I travel the world I must visit Freiburg
-madeline
you should write more poetry!
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