Die Tassen stehen leer und ganz gelassen.
Die Kerzenflamme ist ein Flötenton.
Die Rose schüttet Süße aus in Massen.
Die Dinge schweigen; doch sie sind nicht stumm.
So you thought life was past? It has only begun. For whatever you’ve lost there is something you’ve won. For whatever you’ve missed there is something you’ve learned. It is harvest: persist and reap all that you earned.
This is the word cloud (not of the tags but of the texts) of all English poems posted on this site in the past year. Another year of love and life and leaves… and of mass consumption, mass media, and mass murder.