free verse

Incunabulum

you purport the truth
though your very creation
was but a mirror image
of that the hands had wrought
right to left
with the weight of the world
from plate to page
to give life to your thoughts

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Lines inspired by reading Wilhelm Müller in German

should I depart this place
it will be as the stranger
I was when first I arrived
for all but you my beloved
as it was at your side
I allowed that which I hid
from each acquaintance new
to be the open tome long writ
by me for one as you.

My River

I miss my river
grey though she
ebbs and flows
slowly lapping
with a kind
of resignation
as she dwells
upon her glories
past and famed
but still
I miss her sounds
her accent rare
and noises off
banks north and south
the songs she sang
and those not sung,
her lack of airs
despite her graces
which other
grander courses
of well renown
present, these
only make her
feel right
and me feel right
in turn