Michele Leggott



Paris before the bombs in the shoes
the long grass under the trees at Wannsee
the river with the beautiful name
echoed in fountain spray
where we stroll intimes Unter den Linden
and break the bank for each other
mink and metal in one window harlequin
pants in the other        your eyes
in lapis and gold from Mosaicksatelier
curling treble clef for a morning hat
black peacock halo for quiver breath
did you dream Zauberflöte in puppets
woodwinds like cedar and lemon drops
the wealth of stars tilting your ecliptic
the orange moon on fire at the corner
the bullet-holes in the courtyards
the untranslatable word on the stone
incomprehensible numbers        knowledge
glittering in your eyes like broken crystal




Author’s Note


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