Silence-of-Starlight
By the time their light hits the Earth
They’ve burnt out
A billion years ago
What did they dream of?
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Its been twenty years since i wrote a poem, and never before in english:
Closed ward.
Sitting alone in my room,
the sun sets below the wall outside,
where a pigeon has build a nest in the cherry tree,
blossoming boldly in the little fenced courtyard,
the pigeon fly freely in and out of the hospital,
contrary to me, fixated in my room,
trying to get some rest,
from all the agony, the screams, the crying spells,
the walls absorb them,
the walls of pain.
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