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,
The hidden villages in the mountains
Enjoyed quiet and family,
While watching the progress rush around.
The luxury is over
And things come from the big world
And feelings are drained
From the alpine people.
The lounge dream around my feet
Is thick and solid
And keeps annoyances and doubts
I draw it each day
But vanishes during the day
Under the lightning of others.
The market is sometimes hard to find
In the big bag.
Confident and relaxed in my home,
I week connections and touch
through the winding cable.
Time makes no difference,
Distance is a metaphor,
And conversations are selected
To energise and enrich