Memories of the Linden baby
and Bonn
and the tree growing in the yard
and my friend
The first one I ever knew was real
Sent away
He had the bluest blue eyes
I watched his reflection on
the Orient Express

Then later, in the yard
Crouching against the white
brick wall
next to the door
pulling my knees to me
another pull of oblivion
threaded my stomach
and threatened to
dislodge me
Body and all
from the planet

Old women
and lace
and cherries
and a train
and a smashed baby
And a friend gone all those years
ago

And the Wolfe's family
escaping bondage on
bicycles from the eastern
bloc

And my planet still
whirring
clouds from Germany
And the blue eyed boy
in
Bonn