Night Walk – vengodalmare

~~~~~ * Night Walk for Edinburgh – Janet Cardiff e George Bures Miller ** in copertina ph. Andreas Levers

Source: Night Walk – vengodalmare

  1. It is told & it is told & it is told again.
    Whispered in the kitchen by women
    dividing violets,
    separating beans from stones.
    There came a man then
    walking in his father’s shoes
    who heard the three dogs barking by the stream
    & at the crossroads
    owned neither by this woman nor that man
    saw two white horses in a line
    & said, “Yes, I am a wanderer in my own land.”

    Who are you anyway?
    An old crow fallen among gold apples?
    A man shaving his father’s face in the mirror?
    Naked under the white sow of the moon
    with only the fakebook of Beauty for feeling,
    you think, What is my life?
    A dog abandoned at the end of summer?
    A walk in the rain?
    I have lived with my body so long, is it not my soul?
    Sadness tunes the instrument.
    There is a chill on everything.
    You feel the surge, the violent momentum of
    emptiness filling immense forms,
    energy frozen in each cell,
    the snowplow in a sea of waves spellbound by starlight.

    Night, night,
    sweetest sister, weary river flowing on,
    who will sing all our tomorrows?
    The lucky ones who continue to live having nothing?

    The Widows of Gravesend by L. S. Asekoff

  2. Naked under the white sow of the moon
    with only the fakebook of Beauty for feeling,
    you think, What is my life?

    This poem isa beaut! Thanks, dirk. – Donna

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