star in my forehead...

very dark this evening. no moon for the walk. but the stars were very bright. looking up the hill: big dipper poised to pour into the crown of the giant oak, corner of murphy and h st. fennel in the ditches, the smell of ouzo, and down a ways, of mildew and lint. tonight's was a dog walk in every sense. darkness and plummet into olfactory means. a rush of hot air and rusted pipe near town hall. the building lit up and a few grey heads in the quick nimbus of open doors. passing under the sycamore. oh my sycamore tree. time will tell. the train stalled and idling in town. and over the dark fields the neon of the liquor stop. purple. pink. the light staked moths ellipsing perimeters. cassiopeia to the green northeast, a letter w, a grecian bow.

Aber du kamst nie mit dem Abend----
Ich saß im Sternenmantel.

(else lasker-schüler)