Landscape with Little Girl
I’d like to say—to her, to both of them—
let’s lie down beneath the grass, lie in the shade
of dried-out ships, let matters of fate be left
to those plane trees, I’d like to say, look over there!—
instead though, I caress the see-through sky, the sun
has shifted, there’s a green woodpecker, let’s fall asleep
I’d like to say, from now on let us always be
a carpet, a ball of yarn, but I only stand
in a cloud of laughter and come back are the words
I end up never saying as the child, external as the world,
runs on the lawn while someone else is dying.
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