Jill Rees: Welcome Press

The last strings of the orchestra die down,
and the memory of the dark clouds
sear past the Opera House,
throwing sheets of broken-off metal
over the heads of the people
wrapped in dark coats,
who duck and pull their scarves close round,
and pray before the cathedral in Karlsplatz.I have lost you, Vienna, wrenched
from your outstretched arms
by the demon time, and sent
to a more temperate clime,
where life passes at an even pace.
The barometer of my heart
no longer measures your ups and downs,
while the warm sun of spring
shines on the glittering stone Mozart,
and the fountains weep.

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Tags: Art, Cloud, Sea, Sun, War