
picture
Day 1694, rhythm.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The sunrise today
brightened the mist
I was driving trough
~
the treetops
I see
far away
appear
and disappear
with no rhythm
in the wind
~
it calms me down
to see the aimless
belie the motions
of the cogs
I hear
and feel
in my head
Day 1690, accordion.
Day's pictures, Poetry
With both my hands
I have been
playing indifferent
tunes
~
finally I move
the bellow left
and for one more time
the blowhole calls
with a sour note
the deaf
~
and silence
Day 1689, a round.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Where ever I come
and walk away
~
the road leading
seems the same
~
I’ve seen all these walls
doors
and window
from both sides
fade
into the past
rise
in front of me
~
our road
is laid
in a circle
and if you look good
you can see the signs
once made
by you
Day 1688, open your.
Day's pictures, Poetry
If you see
where the light
is coming from
~
it will no longer
shine on you
Day 1685, looking up.
Day's pictures, Poetry
From certain angles
all the lines
going up
will meet
~
the question is
are we tall enough
to witness this
Day 1684, they.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I can almost
read the signs
~
but for now
~
I am more interested
in the shadows
they throw
Day 1683, shine.
Day's pictures, Poetry
A light
does not shine
in the dark
Day 1682, sentimental.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I 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, Poetry
Our 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, Poetry
It 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, Poetry
The 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, Poetry
I 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, Poetry
I feel an urge
to eat
it comes
from nowhere
I didn’t decide
it
~
it’s just like these words
I write here
Day 1674, playing.
Day's pictures, Poetry
The 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 1672, ice.
Day's pictures, Poetry