Trakl

by Steve Luttrell

Is sadness then
the sound of a sonata

the blue chill
of loneliness,

in the black
nightfall sleep?

The soft sound
of the mourning dove

in the mid
summer twilight.

The boy has
grown old with

the weight of
his words

and death takes
the tone of his dreaming

in the gray dawn
of a new century.