More attachment to a city
in its autumn heart I find not only the twilit cold
one could expect
at the end of October
but layered structures that seem to exist in the strangest places.
Walking Oslo once again I wish for more
eyes to notice
hands to feel
memory to not forget.
As I walked through a friend’s garden,
I noticed autumn’s vanguard.
Funny, I thought.
There doesn’t seem to be anything more beautiful –
than September Rain on a goldfish pond
than rain coated tomatoes (that won’t get red any more)
than a tiny pool bordered by hibiscus petals
than sturdy blossoms awaiting the end of the year.
Guess my thoughts, I say,
to myself (because there is no one else I could ask)
and I answer:
It would feel a little strange to be a Rumanian stray dog
but I could do worse,
chasing my own shadow as long as there is a sun in the sky.
Have you ever seen the peony’s bud?
It’s not much more than a tight oval.
But when the bud opens up,
the greatest petals
And while I inhaled the sweet rose’s scent
I couldn’t help but think that it’s a bit like the mind.
There is so much that the cranium
hides from the world.
I would spend 3000 ₩ on a pack of rice chips to feed the seagulls
and I would have their screams accompany me down the beach.
I would walk across to have a look on the other side (and maybe I would stay there.)
I would wait for the sun to set just to see the magnolia at nightfall (between burial mounds, it is death and short term life, as always.)
And I would be a Koi in cold pond water.
Winter came late this time and
as I strolled Warsaw’s cobblestone pavement
as my hands were pressed against the insides of my pockets
as I found snowflakes in the corners of my squinted eyes, making my sight blurry,
I met a lady outside of her shop.
She stood there and had a smoke, a cold one. A smoke with wind in the back of her neck and around her ankles.
„Warsaw is rather cruel to you“, I said, but I guess she didn’t hear me.
Maybe I didn’t say it out loud.
I never cared to take a look. But one day, on my way to work,
I peeped through the shattered window. And there,
was a small, dusted world, waiting to be kissed awake. (blink, blink and it may be gone)