The first pot of coffee in the evening
is dropping, the coffee maker
louder than the wind
sighing beyond the open window.
After nine hours or eight I awoke
tired, I could sleep
another nine hours or eight
but I have Edward Thomas waiting,
has been waiting for days
to change the garb of language,
and I want to go and walk the gravel roads
in the late evening's silence,
think of the days long gone and close
when all emptiness was filled
with life and presence
and even promise, something
that hovered in the future
just out of sight
and dissolved, giving way to this.
So the coffee ready, I will
drink myself awake, translate
and go and walk and arrive nowhere
except understanding of what
I already possess.
14.07.2025
#Verse #Poem #Poems #Poetry
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