Concealed Happiness Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

love is as...scythed meadow
as the subble,
as soon as separation will attach to it.
this way they are saying other, not I.
I know, that when there is no you,
our spikes
are ripening in my heart
heating upin the full sun as the cat,
made in the window sill.
they are filling the emptiness with golden cornfields
they are protracting,
in order to cover the momentary confusion
of longing and anxiety.
waiting for heavy tolls
I am deducting weeks with sheet of papers
of the wall calendar
whom our happiness is slowly bringing closer.
in the confidence for you
I hid them...before intruders,
in corners of my emotion.