28 October 2011

Berlin: Poem


Berlin
Tobacco-stained fingertips
Autumn’s alchemy
Ochre leaves the colors
of a sun setting sooner
Night walks and
Closed train stations
We are stranded Air nipping
skin hidden
Hot hands together in
Messy moonlit kitchens
Savoring flavors
Of leftovers, eggs, Ossig
Hot water und Honig Wodka
Lips
The smell of a slow, wet wind
Maple-covered cobblestones
Dried leaves make a swishing sound
when I drag my feet on the path
Cold, stone facades
Hide the wealth and warmth
Of Graffiti
Gardens
Sequins and smoke
Coffee beans
Freshly ground
Steeped and served in small white cups
Almond cookies
Fresh cream

Alien tones trip across tongue
As I try
To eek out
Simple sentences
Stumble and fail
Brush the shame off
my worn blue jeans,
Get up
Try
Again.
-H.
Extreme Autumn happy dance after moving to Kruezberg.
 

1 comment:

  1. Beautiful, delicious poem. Miss you, marvelous Harvey! Raising a glass of honig wodka in your honor cheers! Love, Mandy

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