Heimat

Cool trees reach down and
call out to the distant soul –
Come, rest in our shade.

Distant tongues wrap words,
Ordered and familiar,
Waiting for curious hands

that scoops their sounds and
press them to gentle ears,
Hearing a delicate flavour.

Glimmers slowly crawl,
Carving green with blue,
And breathe a city’s sky.

Pride rests in the ground,
named, forever emblazoned
with a single word. Heimat.

Cool trees reach down and
call out to the distant soul –

Come, rest in our shade.

heimat

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