Erik Sweet


"The littlest motion"

The littlest motion
Though a needed one,
see me again,
going away to
bury my needs in a cloud—
as I can talk
I can say say
I say


Landscape Rhythms
A response to Georg Trakl's "Landscape" Second Version

The sounds of silence are not even sounds, they are things

A fire inside is my own village, a knot in doing

You fell off the horse. You combed the rain for snow memories

And caught in the motion is the purple crayon of light

We see the footprints in the concrete and back off slowly

And the whole meaning of structure, of seasons is absent

A body of water can only have a face in writing
You have a face in the flame of water

Nothing will burn without you