Poetry by Moira Walsh



What do I do with this love,
lighter than air?

A second sun
for the sky?



Anders als Alexander


Ich ließ das Schwert stecken,
verwandelte mich in den Faden,
folgte verschlungenen Wegen
(Knoten sind nichts als dies)


Das Rätsel
ging auf


Unlike Alexander


Leaving the sword aside
I became the thread,
following twisted pathways
(knots are nothing more)


The conundrum
came undone


Waning gibbous


The one-eyed headlamp of the moon
shines on my wakeful pillow


Love-sick or love-sound
who can say?


Everywhere I turn, I see
your face


Arse poetica


Poems are nasty beggars
they take what you won’t give

No matter if you’re in the dark
they see to it: you live

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