Invisible

Traveling along the small trail in

Far north

The road keeps turning

This road

Were once used by the

German Vermacht

Built by the Germans

After they hunted all the

Islanders away

This is not a road but still a road

Overgrown by flowers and nettles

Like history itself more

Fiction than fact

But still underneath

The stones and gravels

Are there as well as some

Barbed wire

Draconian

Cold and hopeful

Flowers of the Baltic

In early spring

Pretending not to live

Where the land is closer to the

North Pole than Spain

Love in the Gutter

Love is down the gutter

Dirty, stained and little bit moldy

Like an abandoned flower

Finding it there in the gutter

I doubted if I should pick up

Or not

Eventually

I did

Partly so ugly and stinking

Still so badly needed

Mistreated and mismanaged

I still had to care for it again

Like an old bad friend

Flair

Trying to forget

Who I am and why

The night is full of options

Even though it is cold here

I am hallucinating green and blue flowers

In a dessert landscape

On the bottom of the sea

I am floating

Happily until

Morning

Mending

Healing means put together and unite what has been broken

But all the pieces just keeps on falling apart

A dead flower is dead not ever to blom again

But how to know what is dead or just very broken

Trying to mend what is broken with any tool I can find

But without understanding any tool is useless

You cannot make a flower blom with a hammer