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Jul 2021 · 157
Sur le bac de Gouderak
A Henslo Jul 2021
Assise sur le banc
du bac de Gouderak
elle atteint soudainement
pour son vélo glissant.
Par accident elle me
donne un coup de pied.

Puis un regard
de véritable regret

Aucune traversée
est assez longue pour
oublier cet oeillade
bien affectionnée.

Le navire arrive au quai.
La rampe est ouverte.
Elle s'éclipse le long de la digue —
mes émotions fraîches
toujours inconnus.
Gouderak est une commune située sur l'Yssel hollandais près de Gouda, aux Pays-Bas.
May 2021 · 219
Lost in Alliteration
A Henslo May 2021
I've been to Bangkok, Barcelona, and Bordeaux
Beijing, Biloxi, Edinborough
I probed Pakistan, Poland, Portugal
Yet I'm primarily provincial
But what province, I don't know
Feb 2021 · 155
Foot Ferry
A Henslo Feb 2021
Sitting on a bench
of the ferry in Vianen
she rashly reaches for her
slipping bicycle.
Her foot accidentally
kicks mine.

A sincere
look of sorry.

No stream is
wide enough
to forget her
tender eyes.

The ferry docks.
The ramp is free again.
She disappears along the **** —
my fresh emotions
forever
unfound.
Foot ferries, i.e. small ferries for pedestrians and often cyclists, are quite common in the Netherlands. Vianen is a small Dutch town on the river Lek, a stretch of the river Rhine. If you're not logged in, and see ****, please note that the censored word is "d i k e" (levy). Obviously the algorithms used by this site aren't very smart.
Jan 2021 · 148
So you want to be free?
A Henslo Jan 2021
So you want to be free?
Free of work that s u c k s maybe
Free of bosses, stresses, rivalry
Free of obligations, of dependency
And the tax collecting agency

Now do you really want to flee
From your loved ones, from good company?
The choice to support your family?
Perhaps freedom is a fantasy
A friendlier form of slavery
© 2020 A.Henslo
Dec 2020 · 155
Swiss Folk Song
A Henslo Dec 2020
High in the mountains of Switzerland
refrain: Yodelayheeho, yodelayheehey
I found a man I can't withstand
refr.

He is a big cheese in der Schweiz
refr.
Produces Emmental with eyes
refr.

Amidst our stroll he urges me
refr.
You soon must meet my family
refr.

The nicest kids you've ever seen
refr.
I have a bunch of seventeen
refr.

I think potentially of a score
refr.
So I would love a couple more
refr.

Thus caught out in naïveté
refr.
I answered him without delay
refr.

I'd love a bunch of any size
refr.
But hesitate on cheese with eyes
refr.

You gave me eyes, but I confess
refr.
Not every girl is a cheese princess
refr.

I hence went quietly my way
refr.
And have kept silent from that day
refr.

I do not want that this surprise
refr.
Will be known im ganzen Schweiz
refrain: Yodelayheehey, yodelayheeho!


© 2020 A.Henslo
Sep 2020 · 206
Eternal Love
A Henslo Sep 2020
However much you do or say
Happiness may stay a dream away
And as most will understand
even eternal love comes to an end
Through either death or through decay
Aug 2020 · 167
Among Economists
A Henslo Aug 2020
J.M.Keynes –
In the long run
we are all dead
A.Henslo –
Ceteris paribus
we would live forever
Aug 2020 · 92
Gyokuensai
A Henslo Aug 2020
A sudden whirlwind
shatters the cherry blossoms
It touches my soul
Inspired by Yoshitoshi's Moon Print No. 76 "Shinobugaoka moon"
Jul 2020 · 102
Afterthought
A Henslo Jul 2020
These lines from which I do part
May have a fresh and fertile start
Through reading, reciting
Unraveling their writing
In the public library of art

Revisiting that shared ground
Weighing the words I rhymed
I take a voyage in my mind
Wishing that this time around
A forgotten answer may be found
AH 2019
Jul 2020 · 204
Oeillade
A Henslo Jul 2020
Elle me toise
sans ironie, sans frivolité –
la garçonne
Transposition French English:

Glimpse

She sizes me up
without frivolity or disdain –
la garçonne
May 2020 · 89
Reverie 🌸
A Henslo May 2020
At break of day I never fail
to pronto check my personal mail
for a bedding offer by Françoise Saget
From pillow case to duvet set
canopy drape or four-poster veil

Dear madame Françoise Saget
If I surrender to 'douce energie'
or your pattern 'bouquet fleuri'
or better perhaps 'rêverie poète'
Will you serve breakfast in bed?
AH 2020
Françoise Saget © is a French expert brand specialising in home linen
Apr 2020 · 92
The Last Word
A Henslo Apr 2020
What musings about mortality
escaped my literary head
I had mostly caught

I needed still a closing thread
A potentially famous final thought
Then suddenly came Death

I infer, I told the scythe keeper
it's me, and I may not decline —

But can I then take five, lord Reaper?
I've almost finished a fitting rhyme
Just a moment for digging deeper
I'm struggling with this final line

This may not be mitigated
he gravely replied, and I've
to warn thou art obliterated
Tis the lapse of thy life

Yet, five minutes for a final line
I consider we'll survive
AH 2020
Dedicated to Deborah Landau
Mar 2020 · 93
Deadlock
A Henslo Mar 2020
I don't want to die
If only I was as smart as
I am stubborn
Feb 2020 · 379
Failure - A.E. Stallings
A Henslo Feb 2020
DWAALLICHT

Schoorvoetend naar binnen. Je herkent het gelijk:
De vale muren, het formica aanrechtblad,

Continu malende gedachten onder een
Flikkerende tl-buis—twijfel, hoop, twijfel...

Ze weet dat je kwam voor je fonkelende vlam
Vol beloften, maar er steeds weer vandoor

Met een ander. Overtuigd van je terugkeer,
Met lege handen gebald in je zakken.

Waarom dit verzet? Wanneer zul je leren
Wat het wezen is van je afmattende dromen— 

Bezwijken voor Haar onvoorwaardelijke liefde?
English Dutch transposition © A. Henslo, 2018
Original poem by Alice Stallings (2005):

FAILURE

You humble in. It's just as you remember: 
The sallow walls, formica counter top, 

The circular argument of time beneath 
Fluorescent flickering—doubt, faith, and doubt. 

She knows you've been to see the gilded girl 
Who's always promising and walking out 

With someone else. She knew that you'd return, 
With nothing in your pockets but your fists. 

Why do you resist? When will you learn 
That this is what your weary dreams are of— 

Succumbing to Her unconditional love?
Jan 2020 · 110
Thank You Dr Popper
A Henslo Jan 2020
Freedom, fairly generous at first glance
Is being bounded more than once
By freedom others have obtained
Which, as Popper well explained
Entails the Paradox of Tolerance

If the hatred that some preach
Or the intolerance they advance
Must fall under the stance of Tolerance
Are being tolerated as Freedom of Speech
It will inevitably wreak —
                                                    
The end of each
AH 2020
Sir Karl Raimund Popper (1902-1994), philosopher and academic
Jan 2020 · 75
January 1
A Henslo Jan 2020
I'm too exited to sleep tonight
with everything
wholly new
Nov 2019 · 398
At the Gate of Heaven
A Henslo Nov 2019
Sorry, something went wrong
We're working on getting this fixed
As soon as we can
Oct 2019 · 126
Saignant
A Henslo Oct 2019
While cycling past the charming little deer park in our community I notice that the animals behave restlessly, and make a haunting, complaining sound. I look back over my shoulder, and count only five or so deer on the whole park. A few yards later my conclusion is crystal clear. The majority have been abducted this week by City Hall employed robbers, in the middle of the night when most inhabitants of the adjacent retirement home and most toddlers are asleep. My knowledge of deer life is defective, but these must be children searching for their mother or mothers searching for their children. Cherishing a rather naive image of nature, this will take a lot of swallowing next week at Chez François when I order my deer steak, bien cuit, à point, or saignant.
AH, October 2018
A Henslo Oct 2019
Got a tender kiss and a nighty-nite
Watched my mother dim the light
Enjoyed the warmth of my bed
Didn't need no angels yet
Made it safely through the night

What promise holds the nightly sky?
Venus, Virgo, Libra, Mars
Odd angelic shooting stars
How many do I need to die?
Who's taking care at my goodbye?
"Abends, will ich schlafen gehn", title of a traditonal German bedtime prayer from "Des Knaben Wunderhorn" that made it into "Hansel und Gretel" (1891), fairy-tale opera by Engelbert Humperdinck with lyrics by his sister Adelheid Wette.

ABENDS, WILL ICH SCHLAFEN GEHN

Abends, will ich schlafen gehn,
vierzehn Engel um mich stehn:
zwei zu meinen Häupten,
zwei zu meinen Füßen,
zwei zu meiner Rechten,
zwei zu meiner Linken,
zweie die mich decken,
zweie die mich wecken,
zweie die mich weisen
zu Himmels Paradeisen.
A Henslo Aug 2019
EXILE HAS NO SHADOW

I walk I walk.
I walk You walk.
Are we walking?

This road is not a road.
A road guides footsteps
like the alleys of a village lead somewhere.
To a well
a house
a place with a name.

Nothing leads me.
Are these my steps
paving the way
and making the road?
Is it because we don't know
it is endless?

I lost ground.
I'm walking on something I don't know.
I'm afraid.

Sometimes I see
in the distance
the shadow of a house.
It's my house?

I walk
and there is nothing.
French English transposition by A. Henslo 2019

First page of an epic poem in which a long walk in uncharted territory can be seen as a symbol of life. A walk to infinity after you have left the trusted parental nest. L'exil n'a pas d'ombre, by Jeanne Benameur, Éditions Bruno Doucy, 2019. ISBN: 978-2-36229-204-0.

L'exil n'a pas d'ombre

Je marche Je marche.
Je marche Tu marches.
Est-ce-que nous marchons?

Cette route n'est pas une route.
Une route mène les pas
comme les ruelles d'un village mènent quelque part.
À une puits
une maison
un lieu qu'on nomme.

Rien ne me conduit.
Est-ce que ce sont mes pas
qui créent de la route
et de la route?
Est-ce que lorsque'on ne sait pas
c'est sans fin?

J'ai perdu la terre.
Je marche sur quelque chose que je ne connais pas.
J'ai peur.

Parfois je vois
dans le lointain
c'est comme un ombre de maison.
C'est ma maison?

Je marche
et il n'y a rien.
A Henslo Jul 2019
VERS VOOR EEN PERS

De hemelzangers trekken allemaal
Naar de groene velden van Frankendael.
Onder de struiken bestaat geen rust
Voor het suffe brein, de sterke lust
En de schielijke ogen van Pluizenbaal.
Er is geen bevrijding zonder lijden.
O wanneer is het knarsend hart moe?
Wanneer geeft de krakende zetel toe?
Moet deze zomerdag echt verscheiden?
Wanneer zal de tijd voorgoed verglijden?
English Dutch transposition A. Henslo 2017
Original poem by T.S. Eliot 1932

LINES TO A PERSIAN CAT

The songsters of the air repair
To the green fields of Russell Square
Beneath the trees there is no ease
For the dull brain, the sharp desires
And the quick eyes of Woolly Bear.
There is no relief but in grief.
O when will the creaking heart cease?
When will the broken chair give ease?
Why will the summer day decay?
When will Time flow away?
Jun 2019 · 372
lots of lines
A Henslo Jun 2019
recognize this?
eager lines that
freely start spinning
in your head?

even if they
were spinning before
I still have to
judge them more

what I just said
do you agree?
my spouse suddenly
asks to me

I'm sorry I missed
what you've said
it's these lines
in my head

they strongly need
safe scrutiny
as they want to be
in poetry
ah 2019
May 2019 · 995
Your Scent
A Henslo May 2019
That it took some time
Overtaking our fear
Is now a precious memory
Reminiscence of yesteryear

Today it's indisputable
Permanently clear
Our bond became eternal
Our concord ceaseless and sincere

In passing I take a sniff
Scenting a souvenir
Of your folded pajamas
In case you're no longer here
AH 2017
Apr 2019 · 142
In passing
A Henslo Apr 2019
When traveling home I suddenly set
eyes on this castle ruin and instantly get
that I must have been there long ago
courting the mistress of the chateau
and reading her a romantic sonnet

As my train speeds for its final station
and the inspector wants the ticket I bought
there isn't much time for further thought
like whether this wonderful revelation
was merely wishful reincarnation
AH 2019
Mar 2019 · 131
Amsterdam 1962
A Henslo Mar 2019
seven goddesses
seven white goddesses
enclosing this crazy kid
playing games
want you to come
always let you come
and you won't
why and wherefore?

enter the drums
enter seven white
drums rolling
rumbling purple and red
lights on and off
e r o t i c  light in the dark
kissing and smacking sounds
hurray – w're on the spot

enter the drums
enter the red drums
and the cool hot
cool voice of
abbey lincoln
enter the drums
and drums
and drums
Cave Toulouse-Lautrec
Thorbeckeplein, Amsterdam
1962/translation 2019
A Henslo Feb 2019
DE SNEEUW VINDT HAAR EINDE OP EEN WARM GAZON
EN WAT OVERBLIJFT

De diepste indruk maakt een dik pak sneeuw.
Rustig residu die middag,
opziend naar een wonderblauwe hemel.

Sneeuw biedt je weer een lijf, zet je een hoed op,
begraaft je in haar tweede natuur, met een schijnsel
van sepia, lekkend schemerblauw.

De sneeuw friemelt aan je voegen,
wil naar binnen.

In de sneeuw ben je engelachtig
en zij is niet beangstigend, zij lijkt ons veeleer
te omarmen en te beschermen
op onze weg door de stad

Zelfs middelbaar ben je weer even kind.
De sneeuw vangt ons met haar gepeperde adem
en geeft frisse lucht.

Zij komt en gaat en komt weer terug
Zij hoopt zich op zonder
hoop op duurzaamheid
& wenst niet te blijven.

De sneeuw, ik benijd haar,
dat zij zal verdwijnen
laat haar koud

Zij is haar eigen landschap,
met haar coole witkalk
creëert ze
een albasten pracht

trekt zich dan terug zonder klacht.
English Dutch transposition by A.Henslo
Original poem by Deborah Landau, 2018

The Snow Goes to the Gallows of a Warm Grass  and What Survives

The deepest redress is a thick and fulsome snow.
Peaceful prevail of afternoon,
looking out at this bluish marvel the air.

The snow realizes you a body, puts on you a hat,
tombs you in its second nature, with consequence
of sepia, a leaking dusky blue.

The snow fumbles at your borders,
wants a way in.

In the snow we are angelic
and it’s not discouraging in fact it is marvellous
when the snow has its arms around us
and we walk the streets as if safe.

You’re a child, even in midlife.
The snow clouds us in its peppery breath
and the air comes fresh.

It comes and goes and comes again
it doesn’t aim for durability
it accumulates for the sake of it
& doesn’t want to last.

The snow, I envy it,
it will vanish
but it doesn’t care,

it’s its own garden,
its own cool chalky paint―
kicks up
an alabaster splendor

then retreats without complaint.
Jan 2019 · 269
Memory Effect
A Henslo Jan 2019
We are sitting at a table by the window, my father and mother opposite of me. I have just discovered something peculiar and put it to a final test. Nearby is a slender cypress. This morning it was covered in white frost, but that must have disappeared by now. I look, and see white frost. I blink my eyes and the image of that morning quickly dissolves. The frost disappears. The tree becomes slightly fuller, and takes on a lighter shade of green. Excited, I explain the newly discovered memory effect of my retina to my parents. My father nods understandingly. Dreams can be that beautiful.
AH 2011
Dec 2018 · 299
Nearer to D
A Henslo Dec 2018
Did I have my breakfast then?
Don't remember what or when
Normally no one's seeing me
Would you like a cup of tea?
What's my daughter's name again?

The plain parole is just pretend
This merely is a minor strife
in a human's span of life
Yet daily mounting some torment
Asymptotically nearing end
A Henslo Nov 2018
DAAR ZIJN GEEN PILLEN TEGEN

Ik durf nauwelijks te kijken naar
de vrouw die strompelt over
de stoep, gedrongen adagio

steunend —
er is zoveel angst
ik zou een schema kunnen schetsen

van het grote verval
we zijn weldra allemaal
van vroeger-weet-je-nog.

De bruiloft is voorbij,
de zomer afgelopen.
Leven, leg dat maar eens uit.

Dit boek is bijna halverwege.
Daar zijn geen pillen tegen,
zei mijn arts.
English Dutch transposition by A.Henslo
Original poem by Deborah Landau, 2015

I Don’t Have a Pill for That

It scares me to watch
a woman hobble along
the sidewalk, hunched adagio

leaning on —
there’s so much fear
I could draw you a diagram

of the great reduction
all of us will soon
be way-back-when.

The wedding is over.
Summer is over.
Life please explain.

This book is nearly halfway read.
I don’t have a pill for that,
the doctor said.
Oct 2018 · 1.0k
Happiness
A Henslo Oct 2018
Are you happy?
someone asked me
of late at just
the right
moment

I hesitated
What exactly is
happiness?
Not wealth
or fame

It is not
to be found
in dopamine
or dancing
through life

Not
godliness
ascetiscism
or contentment
But it surely feels like

an approximation of a
certain moment of bliss
that even now
I cannot fully
apprehend

AH 2018
Dedicated to Roos
Sep 2018 · 212
Pardon Day
A Henslo Sep 2018
Should I
this month
aware or unaware
with or without intent
have failed to insult you
or exasperate you
in any other way
then I humbly
offer you my
affectionate
apologies
Aug 2018 · 304
Le jour se lève
A Henslo Aug 2018
A matin en septembre
A familiar fragrance fills my chambre
Le parfum de la boulangère

Flaky at times
Scarcely ever any whines
My favorite breakfast partenaire

I vow to resist you not
if you come with something hot
You embody what I want

Your soft giving bite
Un double express' on the side
My morning croissant
AH 2017

Le jour se lève (adaptation Française)

Un matin en septembre
L'arôme connu remplit ma chambre
Le parfum de la boulangère

Elle gagne sa croûte
Sans un moment de doute
Ma préférence comme partenaire

Je m'acquitterai de mon boulot
si tu joindras mon option chaud
Tu es mon plaisir malin

Une douce bouchée
Un double express' à coté
Mon croissant de matin
Jul 2018 · 216
Trompe-l'oeil
A Henslo Jul 2018
Early this morning, barely awake
I noticed a tiny pencil picture
on the screen of Facebook messenger
next to the profile pic of my daughter
As if there was a message

Not much later
when my vision became clear
I found it was a mayfly –
Ephemera expectans
AH 2013
Jun 2018 · 330
Provence (1)
A Henslo Jun 2018
The first cicada
and a glass of Côtes du Rhône –
Summer is here
Jun 2018 · 317
Provence (2)
A Henslo Jun 2018
Poursuivi par les rafales
les cyprès se penchent au soleil –
Mistral
AH 2016
May 2018 · 237
Zen
A Henslo May 2018
Zen
I gaze at the moon
while she points at the spot where
soon the sun will rise
A Henslo Apr 2018
In Shimabara's old frontiers
Illusive geisha, maiko spheres 
I seek the courteous sublime
Semblance of a long lost time
Fruit of untold fragranced tears
AH 2016
Mar 2018 · 272
HEX-poem
A Henslo Mar 2018
1920 AD
a babe baded
fab babe Ada
a dabbed face
a bed added
4 a fee

ca 1990
deaf
baffed
a faded face
decaf 4 a facade
2 bad
Mar 2018 · 218
Alt American Hero
A Henslo Mar 2018
Is it a plane, is it a bird?
Is it a hairbrain, is it a nerd?
Fire and fury disbursed
Fighting for America first
Never ever second or third

Who else gave the bluebird its glitter?
Make us ponder his every word
And that collusion never occurred
It's our great community splitter
None other than Captain Twitter
A Henslo Feb 2018
Ik merk op: “De maan die minnelijke Don Juan!
Of wellicht (ik geef toe, erg straf)
Is het de luchtballon van Pape Jan
Of een dwaallicht waarnaar wij turen
Om arme zielen *** bos in te sturen.”
     Zij zegt: “U dwaalt wel erg af!”

En ik weer: “Iemand ontlokt aan het toetsenbord
Die gevoelige nocturne, muziek met het vizier
Op nacht en maneschijn, die vaak gebezigd wordt
Om de eigen leegheid vorm te geven.”
     Zegt zij: “Sloeg dat misschien op mij, zo-even?”
     “O nee, ik ben de leeghoofd hier.”

“Gij zijt, mevrouw, een ware grapjapon,
Van hyperbolen nooit gehoord,
Voor dolende gevoelens geen pardon!
Met uw hulp nuchter en rigoureus
Wordt malle lyriek in de kiem gesmoord––”
      En–– “Moet alles echt zo serieus?“
English Dutch transposition A. Henslo 2017
Original text by T.S. Eliot (1920):

CONVERSATION GALANTE

I observe: “Our sentimental friend the moon!
Or possibly (fantastic, I confess)    
It may be Prester John’s balloon
Or an old battered lantern hung aloft
To light poor travelers to their distress.
  She then: “How you digress!”

And I then: “Some one frames upon the keys    
That exquisite nocturne, with which we explain  
The night and moonshine; music which we seize  
To body forth our own vacuity.”
  She then: “Does this refer to me?”    
  “Oh no, it is I who am inane.”    

“You, madam, are the eternal humorist,
The eternal enemy of the absolute,  
Giving our vagrant moods the slightest twist!
With your aid indifferent and imperious
At a stroke our mad poetics to confute—”    
  And—“Are we then so serious?”
Jan 2018 · 166
Dictionary
A Henslo Jan 2018
fake news n
I. false stories ● stories that appear to be news,
spread as a joke or to influence certain views.
II. denial ● especially when you are lying a lot
and get caught.
AH 2018
Dec 2017 · 794
Galatea
A Henslo Dec 2017
When a poem comes alive
I might be like Pygmalion
Not sharing her with anyone
Gently adoring her all my life

Yet, relieved from her laces
Doesn't a poem's magic lie
In that through the reader's eye
She may reveal her many faces?

So I charily hand her over
To the public domain
As however much I love her

It would be a thoughtless sin
Not letting you discover
What I never did put in
AH 2017
Nov 2017 · 1.6k
The Lizard and the Butterfly
A Henslo Nov 2017
Lying under the acorn tree
We indulged each other's company
Hours of playing catch and kiss
Imagining years of happiness
Eternal enchantment, you and me

When you left, the other day
Was it love that made me claim
You never would be happy again?
What laws of nature must we obey?
Do lizards and butterflies really play?
Inspired by a Royal Delft cloisonné wall tile
Nov 2017 · 259
Nikko (1)
A Henslo Nov 2017
A shower of sounds,
water rumbling through the night –
Daiya river
Annex Turtle HOTORI-AN, Nikko 1990
Nov 2017 · 271
Nikko (2)
A Henslo Nov 2017
Where've you been, what've you seen?
The river rushes by;
no time to tattle
Annex Turtle HOTORI-AN, Nikko 1990
Oct 2017 · 624
#MeToo
A Henslo Oct 2017
I don't want to be taken for granted
I don't want to be taken
I want to give
Oct 2017 · 5.3k
Bejaardes
A Henslo Oct 2017
As ek snags
in ons bed
met my koue voet
jou warm kniekuil kry
dan voel ek
die ewige geluk
ook al is môre
dalk alles verby
Transpositon Afrikaans English:

Old Folks

If at night in our bed
my cold foot finds the
warm cavity of your knee
I feel eternal happiness
even if tomorrow
may never be

Dedicated to Elisabeth Eybers (1915-2007)
Sep 2017 · 370
Little Girls
A Henslo Sep 2017
Little girls can be sad
Or is her blue gaze but fixed into the bubbling fountain
caught in a tale that adults cannot grasp?
Pops taps her shoulder
We must go, he mutters
Granny is waiting

Little girls can be sad
an ugly word
a wrong dress
an angry teacher
a friend gone astray
lack of purpose for a long walk downtown

Little girls can be sad
Holding grandpa's hand she performs
a subdued dance to the music in her head
not touching forbidden stones
and without Pops noticing
a quick splash in the puddle

Little girls can be sad
But not for long this time
First publication Sep 28, 2017, www.facebook.com/a.henslo.poetry
Sep 2017 · 347
Paradise Lost
A Henslo Sep 2017
What antiquated tongue as such
Hissed Eden's serpent to get in touch?
Angelic would probably not be true
Possibly Arabic or perhaps Hebrew
But almost certainly it wasn't Dutch

What dikes would Noah's land comprise
If these polder pros had been about
And the deluge struck fields fitted out
With some deft water controlling device?
Would we have preserved our paradise?
First illustrated publication Dec. 6, 2016 www.facebook.com/a.henslo.poetry/posts/1797306240533810
Sep 2017 · 288
I may recreate
A Henslo Sep 2017
I may recreate the poem
That I conceived
Last night
Barely awake
But that feeling of
Blissfulness
Will not return
New release. First Dutch language publication Oct. 2016, www.facebook.com/a.henslo.poetry/posts/1774510299480071
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