Again -- Whisperings-and-Rustlings

 

1

and the cuckoo's voice a dim coal
patiently hollowing a pit in the forest
its dampness reaching the heart
and the heart slumbers and does not wake me

2

and later (slumbering by day)
in children's play is less and less light
and their noise is the stuff of death
(and ever more sadly disappearing
in calamity - as in rubbish - I feel comfort)

3

and this is that time of Self-Dying

4

and sleep snowstorm like a white cload
armour of non-active youth
(and not "struggle" my friend but living -
lingeringly - unto-death in the stillness)

5

And its true name rustles - Lifedeath.

1993