A group of bronze geese flanks the church.
J S Bach: an organ lesson on the balcony.
Friedrichshafen is where radio hams meet,
though my brother told me more than once:
Father never visited, but he may have spoken of it.
The museum (1930s square and white)
on the edge of the Bodensee is closed.
From a Konditorei, warmed by tea with rum,
I have a view of both. Small wooden
boats rest in the curve of the bay.
The Hindenburg has often figured
in my dreams. But the screams
may have been from drowning sailors
or a composer going mad.
In my dream I am in Friedrichshafen.
It is Monday again; I blame myself
for forgetting the museum will be closed.
The waves on the Bodensee are small.
Now yellow leaves surround the geese.
I expect Bruckner to be in the church,
but he steps…
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