Poems for Mittelwerk---gun loaded w/flowers

[Eric Alan Weinstein]

All Souls (Paul Celan)

What did I do?
Seminated the night, as though
there could be others,
more nocturnal than this one.

Bird flight, stone flight,
a thousand described routes.
Glances purloined and plucked.
The sea tasted, drunk away, dreamed away.

An hour, soul eclipsed.
The next, an autumn night,
offered up to a blind feeling 
which came that way.
Others, many---with no place but 
their own heavy centres: glimpsed and avoided.
Foundlings, stars, black, full of language:
named after an oath which silence annulled.

And once (when?for that too, is forgotten)
I felt that barb in the place where
my pulse dared a counter-beat.


Eric Alan Weinstein
E.A.Weinstein at qmw.ac.uk