pausing between the festivities and daily chores,
the child play, the child worry, the rain
to dip into this book, jot down a line, or twelve
poemtrees
for how hard it is
to understand the landscape
as you pass in a train
from here to there
and mutely it
watches you vanish
/
somewhere
behind Turkenfeld
a spruce nursery
a pond in the
moor on which
the March ice
is slowly melting
and my mind is untangled, free again
i even went for a walk
without my thoughts
tonight i will make apple compote
with juniper berries to scent the house
with orange and cinnamon and cloves
happy, luminous new days to you!