you make me happy
my beloved like
the buzzard gyrating in
its epicycles
like paraffin when
it is ignited like stan
getz on the bossa nova
waters like the sight
of the danish flag
that is how happy you make
me when we are in
love’s right element
(from: 1001 POEMS)
time flies past on the
wings of a buzzard in ac
ross the garden so
swiftly that it is
only this morning that i
discover the chan
ges and notice that
i have come to resemble
my father as he
was on the final
photograph taken of him
all that time ago
(from: In Nomine)
Was it a
common buzzard
that hung above Kolding
like a hand-print
in plaster that
morning, when you were bound
for nowhere?
Were you yourself
describing rail
wayline circles a
long dream’s isobars.
(from: HOME)
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