Moor avenue

Poem By Anja Kampmann

at the end the marsh begins
the land stretches out in flat carrées
where people walk dogs and tired legs
walk everything is everyday
in autumn the deer sprint faster
than the mind to the flashing lights
lantern parades st. martin's bread
nowadays fires are forbidden
but the rustling here is like
the heavens and points upward vaster streets
around the moor now they stretch fences
on the signs the distances always remain
exact. and the sky is flooded
with ways home glinting uncertainly
in the dark.

Translated by Anne Posten

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