Tuesday 31 August 2010

Neighbor/Roland Bärwinkel

He rarely takes her
Gripped under her arm
His frail, slow moving Mother
Lady of the World
Hunchbacked over her cane
Balanced, to the Supermarket
Where we greet them in a hurry
Always wishing them a Good Morning
That to me was unimaginable
Her stink grabs me
Every time like a surprising attack
A lizard.
The very old die
The window remains closed
At night he starts to sing
Religious songs
Not meant for my eyes
Empty space, a climbing frame
Many times I bring him delivered packages
Model train sets
Or bake it yourself cakes
First I discover both canes in the garbage
I begin to see
What has happened.

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