Fly up
The
Gray heron
Flew up
As
I
Caught
Him
At the
Ornametal
pool
In
Neighbor’s
Garden
Pilfering
Fish
Auffliegen – to fly up AND to get busted
Traces
Traces in
The sand
Wiped
Away
By
The sea
Tracks
In the
Snow
Blurred
By
The snow
But you
Think
About
Trails of writing
As different
Dreams
In dreams
We
Find
The things
That
Tell us
What
Is true
In
Reality
Bridges
At the
Bridges
Rivers
Just
Have to
Buckle
The belt
Somewhat
Narrower
Choking
The choking
Sets
In
At the sight
Of
Four-year-olds
Dead
On the beach
Or at
Children's eyes
Fraught of
hunger
Winter Sun
also the
Winter sun
Warms
Glares
The eyes
But
Then
She throws
Long
Shadows
Births
How many
Births
Would
It
Have
Taken
Spawns
Until
One
Has been
The right
one?
.
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