The Moselle Valley

The Moselle Valley


As I close my eyes, my hands reach
towards the Moselle valley,
its white wine, its wagtails, its nightingales,
find myself listening to a German band
playing waltzes from old Vienna.
A red flowering tree outside my window.
I felt vibrations from her Slavic-Teutonic
blonde hair on a yellow pillow.
But then I hear
the ugly sounds from my street,
and know I'm alone.


~Duane Locke

Posted over on The Green Tricycle