Weizen

I remember a train station in Gernlinden:

the smell of spent mass & brezel

on my breathe.

I won't recollect the obatzda,

nor the sins that accompanied it;

but I'll remember each word we spoke across the creek,

and the infinite galaxies reflected in it.

Let's savor the alpine air one last time,

let's traverse this hilltop mosaic;

let's celebrate the rhythm of the schnitzel prep,

and never forget the cathedral bell symphony

that accompanied it.

Take one last look at the galaxy with me,

let's breathe the impermanence of this moment--

I can traverse this hill alone tonight,

but know that only with you is it 

worth it.