Gretchen At the Spinning Wheel
(based on Franz Schubert)
wordless at this moment
virginal in a closed room
dark as a berry
Gretchen maid of wood
webbed as an old barn
eyes drops of glass
that seek a window
empty of steps, cast
ing a look at
all that brings no favour
or slowly turns the wheel that
darkly bares the thread;
the cloth of love forsaken;
heartpace of an empty view;
a sort of end, cut.
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