April 20, 2008

Seagulls are crying, like no one can hear them,

Elephant ears, lobster-tails with butter,

A bear of a dog and the little one near him,

And old photographs, - everything’s cluttered,

The wind from the sea is piercing and brutal,

Bare feet on the pavement, props for a movie,

A warm cup of coffee and a chocolate strudel,

And rocks on the coastline, - everything’s moving,

A woman from Norway whose English is German,

A bummed cigarette and a garden of flowers,

The opera singer, the street that we turned on,

The bench that we sat on - everything’s ours…