Bad Weather



A frozen moon stands waxen,
White shadows,
Dead face,
Above me and the dull
Earth.
Throws green light
Like a garment,
A wrinkled one,
On bluish land.
But from the edge
Of the city,
Like a soft hand without fingers,
Gently rises
And fearfully threatening like death
Dark, nameless...
Rising
Without sound,
An empty slow sea swells towards us -
At first it was only like a weary
Moth, which crawled over the last houses.
Now it is a black bleeding hole.
It has already buried the city and half the sky.
Ah, had I flown -
Now it is too late.
My head falls into
Desolate hands.
On the horizon an apparition like a shriek
Announces
Terror and imminent end.
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Submitted on August 03, 2020

Modified on April 16, 2023

36 sec read
27

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABCDEFGAHIJKLMNOPNJLQRASTUVWX
Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 623
Words 121
Stanzas 1
Stanza Lengths 29

Alfred Lichtenstein

Alfred Lichtenstein was a German writer more…

All Alfred Lichtenstein poems | Alfred Lichtenstein Books

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