Normally I enjoy the sunrise in private.
Day 2201, sunrise.
Day's picturessunrise
Day 1856, in your face.
Daily picture, Poetry
It was nice that the sun was shining in my face today
but not while I was driving
~
sunshine is best enjoyed while silent and motionless
Day 1648, turning.
Day's pictures, Poetry
A new sunset
colors my sky
Day 1628, rise.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Sometimes you look
early in the morning
and the sun
tells you a truth
~
and it looks beautiful
Day 1468, red.
Day's pictures, Haiku, Poetry
A red glow scatters
and the earth keeps on turning
beautiful, it was
Day 1428, turning.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I read the news
in the morning
and feel
the world
turning
~
that
gives me
~
sometimes
~
a beautiful
view
to forget
Day 1414, the road.
Day's pictures, Poetry
I’m driven home
for a thousand
times
~
and not ones
the sky
was alike
~
and the road
always
takes me to
the end
Day 1409, empty.
Day's pictures, Poetry
A colourful sunrise
can empty
your mind
for a few
minutes
~
even a narcissist
has probably
once
enjoyed that
Day 1288, holes.
Day's pictures, Poetry
My road
to the world
and home
is poorly paved
~
I filled some holes
but they are hard to avoid
and soon
show their true depth
again
~
now
I descend in them
slowly
to spare my nerves
Day 1127, finally.
Day's pictures, Poetry
In strange harbors
I rest my self
between the unknown
the noises
–
movements
–
finally
I wake
a new sunrise
reflecting
a way
Nochrisis
Day 1123, morning sun.
Day's pictures, Poetry
In the morning sun
I shine lately
till the earth turns
Nochrisis
Day 1040, auburn sunrise.
Day's pictures, Haiku, Poetry
A doorway in time
smells of new, yellow flowers
red, auburn sunrise.
Nochrisis
Day 823, seasons.
Day's pictures, Haiku, Poetry
Ready to fly stars
restrained by the ebb and flow
of sunrise and set.
Day 705, Stuck?
Day's pictures, Poetry
On the right it is me, uncombed standing crooked.
Next my wife, good-looking, all dressed up, hair in a bun.
We say goodbye to our memories you see; some parts are blocking the sun.
The sun that gives us warmth is either setting or rising, is this morning or evening?
Are we going to wait, or getting higher or are we just so rooted like the trees you see here?
Day 691, Between sunset and rise.
Day's pictures, Poetry
Nochrisis 