16
February 28, 1980
16
An Einen Dichter
)Nords are your business, but i-
i collect them: a lepidopterist
who carefully sorts,
but cannot give her collection
flight. You, however, soar
with your vowels-
rising above bric^t eyes
that flock
to you and your creations.
But have a care of me: at times
my eyes
can turn green as luna moths,
and when the moon is ripe
they may rise
to softly beat their wings
against
the brilliance
of your windows.
katherine kremer
The Vision
/ lived in the forest
and walked through the trees
Until fall turned the leaves
into dancers.
AH the colors of sunset
were filling my eyes
And my eyes were still searching
for answers.
Will / find myself following the river forever
Wandering through all of my seasons?
Will my dreams and their danger and all of this anger
Carry me while / follow the vision?
Wait for me winter. I'm sleeping.
Softly the river she's weeping;
Wondering at night who is keeping
My dreams, til the vision returns.
rnmnDmaiX^nnnmanDa^Dcn'
/ stood in the sunlight
and sang to the hawk
Then fell to my knees
by the river.
The clouds slowly gathered
they'd been waiting some time,
Quie tly, the n igh t's
getting nearer
Still the hawk's small reflection was there on the water
And my hand reached out for the reason.
Touch the river with fingers that would barely remember
How easily they destroyed the vision.
Wait for me winter. I'm sleeping,
Softly the river she's weeping;
Wondering at night who is keeping
My dreams, til the vision returns.
Larry Ray Formato