Behind me
But off the highway – who is it? His track is lost in the undergrowth, the bushes close together behind him. The grass straightens up, the wilderness swallows him – Goethe: ‘Winter Journey in the Harz’
The fleeting shadow that I cast, lifts
as I leave the wilds behind me
and the bushes through which I break spring back
and the tall grass I tread slowly rises
behind me as everything returns
to the way it was before I passed
And the undergrowth swallows up the tracks
along the path trailing behind me
and my footfall’s echoes fade all away
as the nightingale goes on singing
behind me. And at last
everything’s as it was before I passed
Victor Buehring enjoys making assemblage art (see:http://artrospektive.com/ ) and writing. His poetry has been published in The Interpreter’s House, Orbis, Elbow Room, The Journal, Carillon Magazine, Ink Sweat & Tears and Eunoia Review]