She leans back in the easy chair
Commenting on the clouds
Where jet lines appear and
Disappear behind the clouds
Pulled-up on a giant stage.
While he listens to his inner
Voice
Stirred by the murmurs of
Passing crowds below
She’ll detects the play of light
And shadow on the profiled
19th century facades –
For him the play of smile and
Tears
On the faded face of his Muse
He still seeks
Having lost her fourteen years
Back
When love and art was sweet
In his heart.
His inner projection in a
Distorted reflection
In the windows of the building
She admires next door.
You don’t live with me she says
Destroying his thoughts he
Lives by
But then it only stirs bad blood
He has to swallow
And will drown-in for the sake
Of domestic peace.
For peace’s sake
Even here in Red Tower’s
Heart of Vienna.
zoltanzelan
ZJG-POetry’18.
