Todtnauberg

Arnica, eyebright, the

draft from the well with the

star-die on top,

in the

Hütte,

written in the book

—whose name did it record

before mine?—,

in this book

the line about

a hope, today,

for a thinker's

word

to come,

in the heart,

forest sward, unleveled,

orchis and orchis, singly,

raw exchanges, later, while driving,

clearly,

he who drives us, the mensch,

he also hears it,

the half-

trod log-

trails on the highmoor,

humidity,

much.