There goes the moon


Half-hatched egg of serpent,

Sliding up a

Gone-past blue sky.

Been Away II

Lifted gently and efficiently by Lufthansa’s local jets from Birmingham to Linz via Frankfurt. “Ja zu Fra”: the busy hub where I just have enough time to make the twisting up and down journey between gates; hoping my luggage made it too (it actually didn’t last time and caught up with me later).

To a place where the sky and heaven are called the same thing, so that every time I think or talk about the sky I am also reminded of Heaven. It’s not a bad thing, when I think about it. Maybe we have too many words in English. Or not enough.

This is a return trip for me. I have seen this region in different seasons – and every one suits it. The dark skies (Heavens), clearly visible constellations and amounts of snow in one overnight fall that would (and does) bring my country to a chaotic standstill are routine here and decorate the rolling countryside magnificently.

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Highwayman Sky

Journeygods temporarily satisfied

I’m falling, all too willingly

Into a highwayman sky –

Reality’s Greased Tarot boards

Tumbling, so easily away.

Gentle, borrowed light

Has fine dark edges;

I hear distant traces

Of thin, deep lines of music.

Smoke carries shadow stories

That twist and change.


Prodigal silhouettes are returned

To the harvest yard again.

The almost invisible

Possesses undeniable beauty.




Giddy from life’s

Revolution roundabouts

I saw the moon,

Bigger than the future,

Confidently climbing

The slow-motion ladders

Of a darkening sky.

The bitter and the sweet,

The tunnels and the lights

Somersault days and

Passionate nights.



Leaving Their Heavens

During the day

The sky told different lies,

Wore comfortable clouds.

This evening

The constant wanderers

Draw closer to my door;

Leaving their heavens

A little further behind.

For good or ill?

And who may know?

My feet are becoming

Accustomed to this path.