>Baked Beans and Grünkohl Poems
Poems
October 2016
Eilenriede
Eilenriede
(our woodsy park in Hannover)
The green today
is dark and solid;
its massive walls surround my path
block out the light
and mute
contrasting colors.
On either side
I barely see
a tree trunk standing out,
no branches
marking patterns
behind a screen of leaves.
I raise my eyes
and hope to find
a slice of blue above,
or shaft of sun
streak down
to part
the darkling wood.
I stand awhile and ponder,
well past the middle
of my life, still
waiting for enlightenment.
(October 2016)
September 2016
Tending the Fire
Tending the Fire
(German translation below)
I must be in a bad way.
Arranging the logs on the hearth
I sense
an obscure stirring,
the shadow of a feeling.
With warming care
I prod and coax
the brittle nobby shapes
until they fall and lie
against each other
with perfect fit and closure –
and so ignite,
their rising heat
sucked into sudden flame.
Really,
I must be in a bad way,
to be so comforted
by the sight
of two old logs
getting it on.
(April / June, 1986)
Das Feuer hütend
Es muss schlimm um mich stehen.
Ich arrangiere das Holz im Kamin
Und spüre
eine unklare Regung,
den…
Milder Abend
Milder Abend
Im Radio schwelgt
eine Frauenstimme:
Monteverdi.
Von draußen höre ich
den Frühlingsvogel:
Regen kommt.
Es singt und singt
und hört nicht auf:
pulchra est amica mea.
(April 29, 1986)
A Walk in the Park
A Walk in the Park
A walk in the park may soothe the mind and, in the process, change the workings of our brains in ways that improve our mental health, according to an interesting new study of the physical effects on the brain of visiting nature.
“How Walking in Nature Changes the Brain,” by Gretchen Sandler, NYT, July 22,2015
My “running” shoes have gotten old
Their soles are wearing thin.
But all the more I feel the ground
beneath my feet –
I sense the stones
and softer earthy path.
So too my joints,
my bones
have thinned,
my hearing’s going bad.
And yet I walk
and still I hear
a…
Long Distance Relationship
Long Distance Relationship
(Deutsche Übersetzung unten)
A first red maple leaf
stands out
upon gray pavement:
a certain sign
that fall is coming.
Back then,
I would have
tucked it in my letter
to you,
beside the lines
of fierce and tender longing.
You would receive it
in a week
and then imagine
me walking
without you.
Today,
I think,
I can capture the leaf
by smart phone,
and you’ll have
the image
in an instant.
But how will you know
that I, walking alone,
am seized with longing
stirred up again by memory
and a small red leaf?
Fernbeziehung
Ein erstes rotes Ahornblatt
leuchtet…
