On the True Nature of Sadness
Wulf Losee

I am dreaming again of a river            we see the dazzle of rapids
closer to its light            the sound of water on the cobbles
its voice rushes nearer to us            calls us through gaps in the forest.

We come to our house by the river            that opens its doors for us
we pass through its rooms            down to the lawns by the water
we wade downstream            submerge ourselves in its flow            depart.

Then the cocoon             that I wove for you            unravels
into the breathing hours            under the currents of stars
that burn so coldly            the lights of silent catastrophe.

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