Month: October 2020
Day 1682, sentimental.
Day's pictures, PoetryI am standing here
looking over a meadow
waiting for
the summer harvest
in autumn
~
It might be
sentimental
or just patient
Day 1681, landscape.
Day's pictures, PoetryOur cultured landscape
~
with fields
square
like the mind
of a farmer
and trees
planted
by the rhythm
of the ranger
~
and the road
we take
follows the creek
that brings
water
down
over rounded
stones
laying in the silt
of forefathers
Day 1680, smooth.
Day's pictures, PoetryIt froze
after the first rain
and leaves fell
~
the next morning sun
broke the ice
and we drifted
apart
~
the distance
warmed
and the rough edges
melted
~
soon
this all
is one again
Day 1679, far apart.
Day's pictures, PoetryThe world speeds by
seen through the left window
of my car
~
at a glance
I see a handful
of black sheep
grazing
far apart
~
where I come from
the sheep mostly
stick together
~
I guess these black sheep
don’t
Day 1678, distorted.
Day's pictures, PoetryI like to look
at the reflection
of a blue sky
in one of the large structures
blocking
my horizon
~
the reflection adds
a much needed
distortion
of what I wish
to see
Day 1677, from nowhere.
Day's pictures, PoetryI feel an urge
to eat
it comes
from nowhere
I didn’t decide
it
~
it’s just like these words
I write here
Day 1676, stand.
Day's pictures, PoetryIf you look
~
at what you perceive
~
from the right angle
and height
~
it will
align
~
but
be sure
to stand still
Day 1675, closer.
Day's pictures, PoetryI see clouds
floating
above the roof
I lie
under
~
they seem so close
and far away
~
I ask myself
staring upwards
~
do I want to be closer
to those clouds
or the roof
Day 1674, playing.
Day's pictures, PoetryThe urge
to pull
on the first words
dangling
in your mind
~
when asked
for an opinion
~
curious
for what will happen
you give
in
and the rest
arrives
~
you pulled
like the cat
with seven lives
Day 1673, her.
Day's pictures, PoetryShe was standing there
forever
still in silence
~
I could see
her posture
knew where to go
~
up the stairs
to get her…
Day 1672, ice.
Day's pictures, PoetryThe flowers
turned white
into ice
now I see
that the clock
moved the time
ahead
and away
from…
Day 1671, against.
Day's pictures, PoetryOur energy
seemingly
comes
from the same source
~
the wall
we stand against
~
ignoring
the fusillades
we look
the other way
~
and sometimes
we meet
each other
Day 1670, sideways.
Day's pictures, PoetryI like to climb
higher
but all the lines
spoken
come towards me
~
I need lines
spoken
besides me
towards a step
and the next
~
please talk
besides me