In the garden he literalized
A nightingale beyond
Knowledge, sound the free
Dogs heard, an open secret
Between the hostel’s two buildings,
Both with bunks, one
Reception with yellow sheets.
I changed the subject
To how my bias freed us
From shooting the storm
In the garden. Either afternoon
I saw change and am not afraid
Of the soul as its source, with your lights on
I believe in a tree
Which grew up from his grave
Had nothing to say even
When wind forced it,
And you wouldn’t have to introduce
Yourself to sleep each time
My argument continued
Wearing the bed you lived on
By visiting the floor.
No thought for those who strode behind in sun
If chanting mitigations of shadows,
I left with less than traveling
Allowed, an early snow not falling
Down as I wanted it to happen,
Simply as it did, without
Malfunction whitening the eyes. Then I could not
Without refrain or parting force, the early
Smile you know from waking
Too hurriedly following rain.
The new museum was emptying
As I fell in every street
Okay to be the four-legged
Person people saw, otherwise
It would just be someone else
And maybe I loved him
Or would come to, as I have to so much
With being passed by. The city was Vienna
I might as well say
I imagine on any coast
The place you were
Is thought, even though
We drove to Italy
Made me cry as a girl
Threw back her golden head
In light at flagellation. The inside
Was with enough practice
We might be shot in the back
From a distance. That was our happiness
As two girls in our compartment
On the train we drove sleeping
Woke without names
And remember asked me
What environment means
And I later named my environment
In memory of her. But what
Could we say? We were sleeping,
There was so little speaking,
And what there was went out the doors
When the train stopped
To let others achieve something
As they slept. When I wake
I want to say
I have been to Cologne,
Dresden without knowledge.
As in the photographs of knowledge
Everyone looks open to being wrong
Reflected in windows
As the train opens
In memory of her.
