Nine Dutch Poets

Binnenwerk (Inside Out) by Bert Schierbeek

when
when my father
(he so wanted to reach ninety)
had reachd ninety
he then fell down
that is: he went out

. . .

you drive by
you see the smoke from the chimney
(the crematorium)
and you think
there he goes
altho it's not even certain
that it's his smoke
and you see him strolling
one summer morning in his long
underwear through the garden
he spoke with the trees he said
and the birds that he heard
(altho not at all musical)
and he stood still
(singing is the finest
thing there is)
and you see him standing
by the Orinoco River
to music of Villa Lobos
on islands lonesome
among twining lianas
wed to mighty trees

Day 11: #TheSealeyChallenge