What are we?
Where are we?
This autumn
When smoke and ashes
Covers the earth
Soon snow will cover
This land,
but the winter
Will not be like
Before
Covers
Glacier Time
Change is a different
Thing
Something difficult
Finding
This slow process
As a glacier
Slowly moving
Towards the sea
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Summer
Being lonely
No snow is falling
Only me
Left to myself
And ripping up
My wounds
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The Proctiln
There is no hope
Of snow this summer
Just as likely
Just as likely as
We don’t find
Another way
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Snow
The winter came quickly filling the street’s with white matter
Frozen time
What am I
Nothing more
Then a piece of snow
Nothing at all
Clear cut nothingness
Still that is something
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Silence
The only thing that makes
Noise is my own mind
Silenced by the snow
And the wind from
The north
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April
Noisy birds, strong white light
The sun is turning the tide,
Black earth and white snow
Mixing, sealing off retreating
To the safety of the library
Growing knowledge and a beard
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Walking
Trying to keep on
Walking in the snow
It is cold here
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The Falling Snow
After trying to keep
My head high
Someone put it to the ground
I am breaking through
Hitting and hurting myself
Falling down
Being criticised
All the things I carry
is a heavy load
Eventually we break down
Power is gone
Hope and dreams gone
Only the falling snow
Remains
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Coooold and Old
This is winter returning and things
Start freezing again
But the real cold is inside
Schibolet 