Of this place here Poem by Marion Poschmann

it was grey was exactly like back then
the unchanged spaces separating
off voices inner restlessness smoke
from the roofs like on the run

welcomes leave-takings re-let
scattered setbacks sorted out
mouldy suitcases rumours had been
kept safe comedies still sealed

in their original packaging
the silence heavily worn melting pot
of false movements was it exactly
like back then instead of landscape

displacement activities curses
we denied nothing we described long
shadows circles as though it were only
its curiosity that kept us part of this place here

Translated by Catherine Hales