laughs from the park
Birds fly overhead… cars rush past going nowhere…
the laughter of a child is heard, echoes throughout the park
a siren sounds–the boy doesn’t know why–(at the nearby military base)
it rings again, soldiers smiling with their marching arrangements…
And life goes on, on, on
as usual.
The little boy runs, tries to whistle, runs away and hides (under the bushes)
of those creepy flying and crawling birds
playing in that deep green, with its soft earth (eagerly)
and the swings and seesaws, drama under the blue
look at this mysterious world… with new eyes.
Everything is clear; the flowers bloomed on the bushes, the sunlight
creates a warm wind and a view that puts a smile on the child’s face
to his memory completely fresh as a newborn chick
It is the life that will not be remembered, not at four…
And life goes on, on, on
as usual.
The child’s hands, mind and body blend with geometry.
is living in a magical world, having fun in its revelry,
with the dome of the earth on his head, like his silver throne
looking for that golden trumpet, which sounded a while ago!
From the park to the Old Tower of Babenhausen we walk
Cody and me, it’s 1975; for him the sun is a ball on his head,
but he doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t have the vocabulary yet;
just think about it…
Our apartment is at the end of the street a bit from the tower,
I reveal a secret: that afternoon is coming
and that the moon is a ball, colored like the sun…
and none follow it, it just seems so!
Keep the secret and smile, look up.
He is living with multiple wings…
and her mind runs like the swings,
and life goes on, on, on
as usual.
He wonders if he will have time to catch up…
Dedicated to Cody Siluk Lord; no: 1941 (17-8-2007); the author lived in Babenhausen, Germany for several months in 1975, of the almost 5 years he spent in West Germany during the 1970s.
the long look
From the arch of the door
He was looking in my direction, at the garage, at me–
while I read my car to go somewhere;
She would be looking-steady
I would open the door of my car a little and ask:
“Why are you looking at me)”
“There’s no reason,” she would reply, smiling.
Then, with a tinge of hesitation
calls and says (in 83):
softly, almost in a whisper “You…”
((as if he had remembered the day I
was born) (almost in a trance.))
And I would do it for my life–
I do not know why; However, now I know that she was
just taking a long look before
she died (because she died shortly after).
I guess he was actually saying goodbye,
saying goodbye with a long glance
last between now and then, when
meet again.
Nº: 1947 24-8-2007