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dreams-of-sepiaPoems
-for my mother- Some days I catch you sleeping my legs are as long as yours now Somewhere in the past, slipping about, I'm still learning how to speak. Even all these years on I'm still searching for my voice which you've always silenced the May rain pours down outside the days are long & ragged some nights we see the Moon & it sings it's serenade to us In our old place we used to play the piano in our living room Moon River, Edvard Grieg & buy fresh brötchen from the bakery or walk beneath the ginko & linden trees or talk for hours on the phone The phone never rings any more You buy yourself Comte cheese a memory of bygone luxury & we leave our garden door open sometimes when we're in & watch the slugs come in & think of how things change. .*brötchen - bread buns ( german)
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Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
How things change
-for my mother- Some days I catch you sleeping my legs are as long as yours now Somewhere in the past, slipping about, I'm still learning how to speak. Even all these years on I'm still searching for my voice which you've always silenced the May rain pours down outside the days are long & ragged some nights we see the Moon & it sings it's serenade to us In our old place we used to play the piano in our living room Moon River, Edvard Grieg & buy fresh brötchen from the bakery or walk beneath the ginko & linden trees or talk for hours on the phone The phone never rings any more You buy yourself Comte cheese a memory of bygone luxury & we leave our garden door open sometimes when we're in & watch the slugs come in & think of how things change. .*brötchen - bread buns ( german)
#memories#mother#divorce#berlin
dreams-of-sepia
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dreams-of-sepia
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 4:31 PM UTC
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