Monday, 12 April 2010

Three 'buzzard' poems by Klaus Høeck

        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)

No comments: