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Sport 40: 2012
Wooden House
page 173
Wooden House
for Alfred Kolleritsch
You must stand with your back
against the wall in the evening light.
Then you will see the storm
announce its approach in the crown
of the lime. The frantic blackbirds,
as if this were the work of old age.
We will be measured by how often
we have not told the truth, though
the word was warm on the tip of the tongue.
One glance at the clouds chasing past
and the gulf between the heavenly
and the earthly worlds is clear.
Your back against the warmth of wood,
and then the disappearing sun.