Herbert Nehrlich 2 - Rust

Come weather,
hurricanes and quakes,
hot meteors from space,
geysirs erupting from still lakes
a bomb rest, live, in heather.
I have not seen nor touched your face
for times beyond all count
inside I feel I surely must
soon go and as I mount
the horse of reminiscence now
I say there is no rust
nor dullness on my blade,
I leave behind the stars of Dow
and the Marquis de Sade.

Herbert Nehrlich 2

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rust-6/