Marsyas, Encircled 5 / Swirling - Desolate Poem by Anja Utler

trembles - the air filled with fleeing birds, rustling sounds -
to finger the serrate's darkening furrows
pulling the stomach muscles - can be seen they're:feathering, swirling
the ribs are: wings, whirling and streaming there: the eyes mistaken
probe lost in a daze in a maze in shuddering (..)
ever more driven and scared: this gaping wound
the mouth: still deepening and silent
- a sudden karst - a parching plain

Translation: Tony Frazer