Anneliese Finke's Poetry

I clasped my hands below my dark veil…

I’d let you in, lifting up

Outside, the sun slowly rises out of the lake, like yesterday—

This morning, everything is still—

You say you left one foot

Does it happen all at once?

what is the purpose of the sun

On that treacherous rocky path,

Tonight, a star

Oh, beautiful man—

There is the peace of the moment

Living rooms glow like beacons

Why— why do I want it

We are the only ones

Now, the time comes

Suddenly, one morning,

Sit every day by the window

Tell me— I thought I wanted—

Was it for the moon

If freedom means

Beautiful glacier scar across the land—

Go to sleep, go to sleep.

If I could paint,

We made a spot

like a glass of water

Wherever you are, look out the window

Take all that is good with you:

You tell me

Every day now, she stares a little bit past him,

Blue second-story lights

Who told you

Bury my bones

From that time on, his stories grew stranger

The heavy air flattens the world;

is a nineteen-year-old boy

I wanted to see his tree full of angels,

The cow, the hot sun,

We climbed out the windows to reach the sun,

She wanders slowly along the streets

In the dark, they are indistinguishable,

When you look up, it seems the trees

She runs along the side of the road,

They stare at me, unblinking, their cracked eyes

Only in feeling, of course.

I’ve heard some learned people take the view

The whole house shuddered when she left.

Over the fireplace, a painting,

I’m beginning to think that they’ve all

The storks are shaking the dust from their wings

Sitting up late at night,

Her hair has come loose from its elastic,

My roommate says I talk

When you face the doctor

Driving under the overpass,

The bus is nearly empty.

If you sit in the first row,

She tells him

Jerusalem is a circus.