Minutes distillation

Sitting and staring at the landscape
I don’t value these minutes
That can hand out joyful ideas
And first steps
For a new direction.
The train accelerates,
I slow down

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Parallel sleep

Sunny day and rainless office
Cannot stop my sleepiness.
Private and soft
It draws me to the land
of pink blankets and emerald fields.
I lull in this parallel reality
While the others rush.

Migrant bananas

The tropics are here
In the yellow curves on the table
And in my pocket.
Banal fruits we give for granted,
Travelled in group
Scared and green
To my table.
Like migratory birds at their first adventure,
They matured.

October islands

A pinch of sunlight
Can decorate this Thursday
And mark it as a new memory.
October of sorrow, expectation, and rest
Has now sparks of life
To jump to in the difficult days.

Gorge cold

Invisible and hard,
The cold of this gorge reaches me
And swipes away
the comfort of this Sunday.
Nature touches me
and like a stream Refills my hands.

Yellow bench

Yellow and empty,
The bench stares at the sun alone.
It waits nonstop for a purpose
And yet it is playing its role.

Train travel

On the silent train,
I space-travel and time-travel
With no effort.
The welcoming feeling of home
is left behind in a step
And ne realities kick in
Unlimited.

Flamingo dance

On a foot I cruise the lab,
Walking sideways in a diagonal,
I reach my high desk.
I stretch my neck to discover the documents,
Hiding silent in the back,
While the others follow me
with their eyes filled of water.

Holiday lapse

On the sunny grass,
I refuse to count the minutes
And abandon myself into the light
And into this book with potential.
In a cone of rays,
Life seems logical
And nature an expected component,
Fast from the arrogant asphalt
Of home.

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