CONCERNING TIME
It is not the wind
that whips the grass
colourless,
it is not the wind
that makes fruit
fall from the outermost branches
right now,
and it is not the wind
that makes clouds seek
the closest horizon. No
it is no use
choosing the wind
as an explanation
I’m well aware
it isn’t that
which is raging out here,
but that it is time,
my one and only time,
which is running faster
and faster
and is running farther
and farther away, I’m well aware
it is that
which has burst out of my pulse
and now –
suddenly – stands there gloating,
free at last.
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