No longer caring what those near him thought;

no longer waiting to be called away;

he left again. Lost; left —. He would not stay,

because he loved what nights of leaving brought,

so different from those nights of love. He'd stayed

awake to watch the wonders strong stars made

when they had clad the night skies, prying far

apart short distances from star to star,

and wavering the way a battle's swayed.

And other nights: when towns like thieves (caught under

moonlight), surrendering, would yield their plunder;

nights showing noble houses of grey stone

across the span of some subservient park

(he'd turn his head a moment in the dark,

to nurse the thought of making one his own,

but knowing well there's nowhere one remains);

Then at the next bend in the road he'd see,

by towns one may give pure hyperbole,

a countryside of bridges and of lanes.

And letting all this — never craved again —

remain behind seemed more than life, desired

wealth, or being famed or great.

Still … there were times when foreign stones — worn tired

by steps around some well — would be admired,

and were to him a rich and fine estate.

Die Anfahrt

War in des Wagens Wendung dieser Schwung?

War er im Blick, mit dem man die barocken

Engelfiguren, die bei blauen Glocken

im Felde standen voll Erinnerung,

annahm und hielt und wieder ließ, bevor

der Schloßpark schließend um die Fahrt sich drängte,

an die er streifte, die er überhängte

und plötzlich freigab: denn da war das Tor,

das nun, als hätte es sie angerufen,

die lange Front zu einer Schwenkung zwang,

nach der sie stand. Aufglänzend ging ein Gleiten

die Glastür abwärts; und ein Windhund drang

aus ihrem Aufgehn, seine nahen Seiten

heruntertragend von den flachen Stufen.