Silent Poem by Dan Uriel

Blue, red, yellow, stained
I saw pictures in my dreams
and I felt this order -
an airborne specimen did not fail
It is now obscure in my members
my dream and the iron world of order
During the day the moon rises within me,
and when it is out
the night - a day shines in here

Even a pile of split wood
the world is lying on top of each other
squeeze, push together
one thing the other
and so everything is determined
Only what is not has an ankle
just what will be the flower
whatever is falling apart

At the freight station
I leaned against the base of the tree
like a piece of silence; gray weed
to the number, raw, special-sweet
I watched the guard dead, how do you feel
as on the silent wagons
a shadow that jumped on the bright,
dewy coal cones