After Trakl

The sun’s buried

In the leafless wood

The moon ripples

In the freezing pond

A pale man

Lives in the blue crystal

His cheek resting against the stars

His head nodding in purple sleep

Yet, the flock of birds

Still

Stirs the water

Holy

The close stillness

Of forgotten things

Heather appears

Young

Shining in Autumn

Yet

Spotted with dark decay