The South by Walter Ruhlmann

You live in a world of stone and dust,
the western wind sweeps dead leaves,
makes rooms for the desert.
Hair fluffs act like tumbleweeds:
they disappear behind the furniture,
they stick to the blankets, the slippers,
even the vacuum cleaner feels useless.

On the road to the station, at dawn,
or on your way back home,
vineyards can’t even soothe you,
only the nectar they offer manages
to make you forget that soon
more corpses will invade your landscape,
will crowd over your space.

Walter Ruhlmann works as an English teacher, edits Datura, Beakful and Urtica. He has published close to thirty chapbooks and poetry collections both in French and English, and hundreds of poems worldwide. His blogs http://thenightorchid.blogspot.fr/ and 

https://nightorchidsselectedpoems.blogspot.com/