Wine and Time

Already drunk
by the middle of the day,
leaves fall
out of trees in Plantanen Allee,
reflect in water
and swirl drunken away.

Eternally drunk
in its own magic way,
water courts preening swans
with rippled bouquets
of flowers reflected in drunken display.

And I, more than drunk,
look discretely away
when old women,
reflected a naked gray,
bewitch summer swans
with a drunken ballet.