Schweinfurt - A Breath Length Poem
He walks the Straße, the idle streets of Schweinfurt, peering in through windows and running under arches and corridors formed by the mass of buildings thrown together like a messy breakfast; white walls with neat red tiled roofs, friendly windows peering out onto the relaxed street, walling in the Deutsch like a cozy home.
She struggles along the Straße, the hectic streets in Schweinfurt, searching for an escape, darting in and out of slow-moving people and cars, dodging and weaving and ducking, trying to be free of the gothic walls built up around the old town, which have crumbed and been restored so many times over the town’s ancient history.
He notices the frau, the young woman, dressed in clothes far too light for the chilly November morning, as she hurries down the avenue barely stopping to register any of her surroundings as her bare feet carry her past the grand 16th century German architecture, suddenly crossing the street and colliding straight into him.
She picks herself up from the ground, brushing down her summer dress to smooth out the creases, and peering at the child into whom she has just run into as he picks himself up and is staring back with deep brown eyes, and she is reminded of old eyes in a young body; the way the eyes look around, as if familiar with every aspect of life presented to the boy at any one moment.
He stares into the woman’s eyes, seeing straight into her longing soul, and he sees a soul begging for a sense of belonging which he cannot fathom and, in that instant, he can see all the tears of the past, still seeping deep within her very being, and while he does not know where she came from, nor what she is doing, he senses her one need, all this woman needs is an Umarmun; a hug, an embrace.
She tears her eyes away from the boy, feeling eerily wanted by him, this lonely boy sitting on the quietly hectic streets of Schweinfurt, and, in that instant, she knows that she cannot leave, because whatever her unknown past held has now become irrelevant, and she reaches down and picks up the boy, and they embrace, they cry and laugh and for a moment, the streets are still, the world is still.
They walk the Straße, the idle streets of Schweinfurt.
She struggles along the Straße, the hectic streets in Schweinfurt, searching for an escape, darting in and out of slow-moving people and cars, dodging and weaving and ducking, trying to be free of the gothic walls built up around the old town, which have crumbed and been restored so many times over the town’s ancient history.
He notices the frau, the young woman, dressed in clothes far too light for the chilly November morning, as she hurries down the avenue barely stopping to register any of her surroundings as her bare feet carry her past the grand 16th century German architecture, suddenly crossing the street and colliding straight into him.
She picks herself up from the ground, brushing down her summer dress to smooth out the creases, and peering at the child into whom she has just run into as he picks himself up and is staring back with deep brown eyes, and she is reminded of old eyes in a young body; the way the eyes look around, as if familiar with every aspect of life presented to the boy at any one moment.
He stares into the woman’s eyes, seeing straight into her longing soul, and he sees a soul begging for a sense of belonging which he cannot fathom and, in that instant, he can see all the tears of the past, still seeping deep within her very being, and while he does not know where she came from, nor what she is doing, he senses her one need, all this woman needs is an Umarmun; a hug, an embrace.
She tears her eyes away from the boy, feeling eerily wanted by him, this lonely boy sitting on the quietly hectic streets of Schweinfurt, and, in that instant, she knows that she cannot leave, because whatever her unknown past held has now become irrelevant, and she reaches down and picks up the boy, and they embrace, they cry and laugh and for a moment, the streets are still, the world is still.
They walk the Straße, the idle streets of Schweinfurt.