The Gesture
For Greta

Barely a movement by a girl so young,
A truly eternal moment in the way
Of all things of such inhuman scale
That vision cannot encompass them;

The slight bowing of her head, the perfect
Attitude of shyness explaining softly
That she is not so good at these things...
& the world was without love, an absence

Stretching beyond the horizons of cold
In a realm of ice. All of this within
One gesture that belongs to no god.

What remains? This poem. The heart's empty spaces.
No physical thing...even she is gone.
The world's awash in tears.



Fl–x   [BL/´DE] '94