Three Poems

LEGEND

The hill-top schloss
with its roots of stone cellar
on cellar
feels through and down

into the soil
the saecular dark
where space turns blind
and time is murk

from root to tower
an ascension seeks
for the lighted room
where someone sleeps

then waking goes
to the source of sun
the slit of a window
that gives out on

Bluebeard's domain
...