Five Poems

Zurich's Cloud Cave

here the one-eyed would
more than blind you -
light, on the rocks,
as in the rubble,
the shards still speak.

Bowed to the darkness,
now the days come broken
like the families
of foreign workers, sheep
crop what's left of the light,
no one escapes the blood feast.

Pastoral

Corn-brake, reed flute,
swamp or field, the path still
dirt, rock and root,
and the river that spreads
...