Poetry: T.A.K. Erzinger

The Afternoon Route


Lost in the Alp’s crooked smile

a toothpick between those Myths, there

I stood a cowgirl without boots

from America to Heidiland

fleeing ghosts who knew no boundaries.


I hiked up the pilgrim’s way and slipped

down behind the trees

I find myself at middle age

in the afternoon, following a map

to unknown places.


Fallen in the mountain’s crevasse,

I fell from who I was,

with my rucksack full of southern charm

tucked in like a snail

fearful of being exposed


but I find Tell at the apple orchard

and create my own rebellion

guided by the country light

I follow to catch Victoria’s view

and mourn like she did there for Albert.


Dusk. I watch bats

chase away the day.


The sky is busy. Stars

are preparing for their entrance.


A distant chapel chimes.

The cows are called home

and pastures are left open.


Within a rolling valley

I end up rooted like a perennial

anchored firmly in the soil.


Inspired by W.S. Graham poetry, in celebration of his 100th birthday





In the opening act of the year, the hills

are ivory white, unfurled, fresh.


I watch the crows, in a row

piano keys, playing to an invisible metronome,


their tempo, in time, a serenade

coaxing at the drama percolating


under the soil. The sun draws closer,

taking centre stage,                         teasing


causing the landscape to sweat in anticipation,

freckling in dots of green, little tips


alien fingers reaching out, revealing a preview

of the next scene about to begin


like an audience member, I am transfixed


as the coming season slowly makes

her entrance.


*The final part of a play in which the strands of the plot are drawn together and matters are explained or resolved; The outcome of a situation, when something is decided or made clear.






bees swim against the wind’s tide

working overtime


flowers oblige

extending their opening hours


and still leaves fall like stars

a colouring of comets


they drift to unknown spaces

unconcerned by their fate


letting go.


Unlike us.



we cling to broken branches

beyond repair.



You can read more about Zürich based poet T.A.K. Erzinger here.


T.A.K. Erzinger is an American/Swiss poet and artist with a Latino background. Her poems have been published by The Mojave He[art] Review, The Beautiful Space Journal, The Cirrus Poetry Review, The Curlew, The Rising Phoenix Review and more. Her close relationship with nature and her struggles with PTSD feature prominently in her work. The themes in her poetry touch upon varying degrees of loss, forgiveness and healing, as well as some environmental and social commentary. Her debut poetry collection, Found: Between the Trees, was released in April 2019 by Grey Borders Books and is currently available at www.greyborders.com

She lives in the Zürich highlands with her husband and cats.

Author: Libby O'Loghlin

Novelist, social entrepreneur, nutrition and narrative coach. Creative Director of The Woolf Quarterly; Co-Founder of WriteCon and The Powerhouse Zurich. Nature is my jam.

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